From Patriot to Iconoclast
by SirMandokarla
Summary: SWTOR, The Legacy. Imperial Intelligence is not kind to its agents. The Empire is not kind to aliens. The galaxy is not kind to men who do not know who they are. Telkwa Thema, Cipher Nine, Legate, Iconoclast... who is the man who fights in the shadows, and who does he fight for?
1. Chapter 1

10 ASC

Had he been a different man, Telkwa Thema might have confessed to being awed by Imperial Intelligence headquarters. Of course, had he been a different man, he never would have been allowed entry.

The walls glowed with a malevolent majesty only he could see. A product of Dromund Kaas' inherent power, it lent the building, the city, the entire planet an imposing nature like no planet he'd ever been on before. Even so, it was nothing compared to the chambers of the Dark Council nearby, where power radiated so strongly Telkwa could feel its oppression from almost anywhere in Kaas City.

Oddly, the power was becoming more intense as he approached Headquarters' main room.

Then a presence came into focus.

Telkwa gave an involuntary shudder just before turning the corner to see Keeper in a one-sided argument with an extraordinarily powerful Sith Lord. Unlike most Sith, this man's presence radiated out from him, eating away at those close to him. It took an effort of will to approach the pair of arguing humans. Telkwa came to stand beside them just as the Sith Lord was refusing to turn off whatever power was probably slowly killing everyone in the room.

"You, agent," the Sith Lord said sharply, turning only his head to face Telkwa. "You were the one sent to Hutta. Is that correct?"

"Yes, my lord," Telkwa replied, saluting crisply. Kaliyo scoffed silently behind him. "If I may, are you Darth Jadus?"

Darth Jadus nodded, confirming he was the same Sith who'd been expressing interest in Telkwa since the start of his first mission, only a couple of weeks ago.

"You served me well in your dealings with Nem'ro," Jadus complimented him. "You will serve me well again."

"It would be an honour," Telkwa replied.

Jadus, who clearly liked to hear himself preach, told him, "sublimate your desires to those of the Empire, and you will go far."

Then the Sith lord proceeded to push around Keeper, even past the experienced spy's protests, and bully the old man into giving Telkwa an unspecified mission that must have personally benefited Darth Jadus. It was somewhat unsettling, if Telkwa were to be honest with himself. He had faith in the Empire, of course; it had conquered his home planet when he was a young boy. It was obviously a stronger nation than the Republic. Still, the Siths' control over matters they were clearly less experienced in than their subordinates was… well, unfair and inefficient. Still, as a loyal Imperial, Telkwa would never openly question such a thing.

After Darth Jadus left, Telkwa quietly agreed with Keeper's concern regarding Telkwa's "new friend", then left to get extra gear from his locker before debriefing.

"I know you don't like the bowing and scraping, Kaliyo," he murmured as he pulled his preferred headgear from his locker, "but try to be a little subtler about it. Men like that will kill you for not showing enough respect, let alone insulting them."

When Kaliyo looked like she was about to reply sarcastically, Telkwa finished, "we make a much better team if you're alive, Kaliyo."

Then he closed his locker, fitting a utility belt across his chest and adjusting his headgear on the way to Keeper's office. It might be his gear, but it never fit quite right. The expensive visual filters made a perfect fit around the eyes a priority, and, since he didn't have any, they fit him terribly no matter how he adjusted the contraption. At least they let him take off the ridiculous tinted glasses he'd had to wear on Hutta.

Telkwa stopped outside Keeper's office, but made no move to intercept Kaliyo. He'd already figured out that the best way to keep control of the Rattattaki – filthy alien – was to not even try controlling her. Naturally, Kaliyo walked right into Keeper's office, leaning up against the wall as Keeper said, "agent. Come in. Let's talk."

The old spy didn't even turn around as he gave out orders. "Kaliyo? Wait outside, please. One of the Watchers will handle your debriefing."

"We need to talk about my terms–"

"I promise you, you'll be well compensated. You can discuss the details with a Watcher," Keeper assured her. Kaliyo bristled at being interrupted, but the promise of payment mollified her somewhat. Hopefully the promise of a fat, steady paycheck would keep the mercenary marginally loyal.

 _Still,_ Telkwa thought, _the sooner I can start working alone, or even with a more reliable partner, the better._

With a final parting comment Telkwa didn't pay attention to, Kaliyo finally left, and Keeper deigned to turn and face his agent.

"So, I've reviewed the report of your activities on Hutta," Keeper said, "you were busier than I'd expected."

Telkwa clamped down on his panic.

"I worked to facilitate my cover, sir," he said evenly. "My secondary missions were planned so as to make best use of my time between mission-related work for Nem'ro. If you are dissatisfied, I will accept responsibility for my failures."

For an instant, Keeper's face was unreadable. Then he reassured Telkwa, "You were extremely effective in your mission, and I'm impressed by your efficiency. You used violence as a tool and not a crutch. Not many agents find that balance so easily. So I wonder: why did you join Imperial Intelligence?"

 _To atone for my heritage,_ Telkwa thought, even as his mouth responded by rote, "I joined to serve the Empire and its people."

"Idealistic sentiment," Keeper almost gave Telkwa a smile, but then he sighed, "a pity, in some ways. You may find yourself disappointed. This isn't glamorous work. We're sanitation workers – we clean up after the military and the Sith and do the jobs no one else will."

Changing tac again, Keeper said, more reassuringly, "without us, though, the Empire falls apart. So we do whatever is necessary – even if it's thankless and ugly. You understand?"

The agent did. He'd been forced to kill an innocent man on Hutta, Kerrals Jarvis, whose sons had gotten in the way of a Sith Lord. Telkwa regretted the murder, but he'd do it again, if he had to. Even so, he hoped his nation never asked such a thing of him again.

"I understand completely, sir," Telkwa answered automatically.

Keeper nodded. "I'm glad to hear it."

The debriefing abruptly changed into a briefing regarding a terrorist cell on Dromund Kaas, and Telkwa was informed he would be working with two other operatives. For a moment, he thought he was already rid of Kaliyo, and thanked the Empire for making his job that much easier. Then, Kaliyo and a human woman walked into the office.

"Watcher Two, huh," Kaliyo sniped at her newest partner, "that's a pretty name. Is it Twi'lek?"

Watcher Two, however, seemed completely unfazed by the comment. Almost offhandedly, she replied, "it's Basic. Unlike many civilizations, the Empire teaches its children how to count."

It took a bit of effort not to smile at that. Of course, since Telkwa was still facing Keeper, Kaliyo wouldn't see the expression anyway, but sometimes it was hard to remember that other species had "sight lines".

Watcher Two gave a crisp salute and officially reported in. Keeper gave a firm nod of acknowledgement, then looked Telkwa directly in the… well, at his face, and said, "Kaliyo will be your support in the field. She will report to you and take your orders… since you seem able to handle her."

 _With all due respect, sir,_ Telkwa thought, _you obviously don't know how to handle her, if you think she'll take my orders._ The best method with Kaliyo seemed to be to figure out the absolute minimum that needed to be done, tell her the mission with as few restrictions as possible, and manipulate her into choosing the least disruptive option. So far, Telkwa could broadly get her to "cause a distraction," or "don't get shot at," without being completely ignored. He considered that a success, since he could always work his way up to more complex commands if he was forced to work with the alien for an extended period.

"I'm making you look good, agent," Kaliyo grinned. "You should be grateful."

 _Only by contrast,_ Telkwa thought.

Not missing a beat, Keeper continued, "meanwhile, Watcher Two will be your liaison to base. She'll stay in contact remotely and provide you with mission details."

Watcher Two finally stepped up beside Telkwa. "I've heard a lot about your species," she commented. "Your unique skills should complement the team well."

Telkwa turned to glare at the woman, all but snarling in her face. "How did you – my dossier, of course."

He pulled back, still enraged, but afraid of causing too much of a scene. Kaliyo seemed confused. She'd had no idea he was an alien. Just the way Telkwa preferred it.

"I am a servant of the Empire." Telkwa gritted out the words, but they had to be said. "Nothing more, and no less. Whatever aberrations you think I plan to rely on, remember that I earned my place in Imperial Intelligence."

Watcher Two looked just as stunned as Kaliyo did, but Keeper stepped in before anybody said anything else.

"Enough, agent. Watcher Two is trained to be aware of and take advantage of any possibility. You should do the same."

If anything, Telkwa's spirits fell even further as he turned back to face his superior – unnecessary, given that Miralukans couldn't see, but a form of respect in human society nonetheless – and receive his complete briefing.

Maybe, if he did his job well enough, even Keeper would forget Telkwa's shameful heritage.

A man could only hope.


	2. Chapter 2

10 ASC

Two figures walked through a green valley. One was a small man in plain grey military cloth, his head encased in a headset that wrapped around his chin, ears, and eyes. The other was tall, with red robes and eyes as black as his hair.

Alderaan was a beautiful planet. Even the Empire and Republic had to agree on something like that. Verdant hills and glorious, towering mountains sheltered vibrant grasslands and lovingly crafted architecture.

Not that Agent Thema, now Cipher Nine, could see any of it. Still, there was a beauty that only he could see in the vigorous life of the world. He was ashamed that he saw in such an alien way, but sometimes, some things made it worth it.

It was both frustrating and worrying that his current companion was one such example.

"You've been very quiet," Vector Hyllis said, completely oblivious to his own beauty.

Before that day, Cipher Nine would have said that only Force-users shone, because only they represented the perfection of life. Vector Hyllis was a Joiner, a human modified by alien pheromones, the most distant thing from perfect the Cipher could imagine. A corrupted man. Yet he was as bright as anything the Miralukan had ever seen. He didn't radiate in the same way Force-users did, but he was so _alive._

"Why did you let them do that to you?"

Vector turned to look at his companion, but the man didn't bother to return his gaze.

"What do you mean?"

"They ruined you," said Cipher Nine, ignoring Vector's flinch, "turned you from a human to something else. How can you forgive them for that?"

"We do not think of our- of myself as ruined," Vector replied in his calm, steadfast tone. "Our duty to the Empire is to foster relations with the Killiks. They welcomed us into the nest, and we have done our best to gain the Empire a new ally on Alderaan."

Cipher Nine's voice hitched, and he hesitated, but he asked, "why?"

Vector looked at him curiously, and the spy powered on, blurting out, "why does the Empire make deals with creatures like them?"

He almost flinched as Vector flared, but he reminded himself that the ambassador was a corrupted human, not the real thing. Then Vector calmed himself.

"The killiks have a great deal to offer," he assured the Cipher, speaking as if he'd explained the same thing to others many times. "We have shared intelligence, perspective, and military assistance since your arrival. We believe this demonstrates how indispensable the killiks are to the Empire's efforts on Alderaan. We are loyal to the Empire, incapable of deception. I think, too, that the killiks have an understanding of the galaxy unknown to the Empire. We believe that is valuable."

The two walked in silence for a time as Cipher Nine mulled over Vector's words, unable to refute the contribution the killiks had made to the mission. Lady Cortese's involvement would never have been discovered without them.

"Offer," the miralukan repeated eventually, as if tasting the word and finding it sour. "You say the killiks offer their help, but the Empire takes what it needs. It always has. Why was there any need to sacrifice you for something the Empire should have taken by force?"

Vector's response was immediate, and from the heart. "We disagree with what you think of us, but we will try to understand... We believe the Empire does not need to take what we give to it willingly. In peace, the Empire finds a long-lasting ally, a boon to its efforts rather than a drain. We hope that, by our example and perspective, the killiks will see the Empire as a great nest. There is no reason to use force to subjugate them when the hand of friendship is so willingly taken."

 _But why aliens,_ Cipher Nine thought. He didn't reply, though. Instead, he pointed towards the outermost defenses of the generator facility they planned to sabotag. "We should cloak before getting any closer."

The look Vector gave Telkwa made him realize he'd just pointed out something behind a mountainside. The Cipher almost cursed his slip-up, but chose to ignore the event and hope it was forgotten.

The comforting energy of the cloaking field surrounded each of them, cutting off any further conversation. That was almost a shame, because Vector seemed a reasonable… man, even if he was unusual.

That left Cipher Nine with his thoughts.

 _Our duty to the Empire is to foster relations with the Killiks_ , he thought as they crept past the facility's turrets.

He mulled the words over in his mind as they sneaked into the facility, and idly noticed that Vector had a talent for stealth.

Vector fulfilled his role. That was what he claimed. But Cipher Nine had seen what the Joining had done to that Thul girl. She'd been so far away, so sad to lose more of her horrific converts.

Vector Hyllis was closer. More alive. His voice was subdued in the way of a man used to controlling his emotions, not in the way of a human turned unfeeling alien.

When they reached a clear part of the hallway, Cipher Nine whispered to his companion, "are you planning on converting me, Vector?"

Again, Vector's response was calm, but Cipher Nine could see the man flicker in irritation. He was far easier to read than Kaliyo.

"No," whispered the Joiner, "you serve the Empire differently."

They moved on, silently walking right past droids and guards alike.

The Empire asked a great deal of its citizens, especially the subhuman. That was only natural. Every nation needed the best from its citizens to run efficiently, and the Empire could not afford to let its alien minority leech off of the hard work of others.

The issue with such treatment was that it didn't inspire loyalty. Cipher Nine himself had been through rigorous testing and psychological analysis to determine his aptitude for Imperial Intelligence. While he'd never been told exactly how much of it was meant to find the likelihood that he would turn traitor, he was not naive.

 _No reason to use force when the hand of friendship is so willingly taken._

Vector Hyllis gave reports just as regularly now as he had before. There hadn't been enough difference in their completeness to comment on, going by Watcher Three's briefing.

The Cipher's slowly growing theory that Vector hadn't been changed much by the Joining was dashed once they reached the generators. It was the casual way he took the tiny, internally wriggling egg sacs and threw them into the machinery, letting the fingerlings burrow in and destroy what they could. It was unnatural how the creatures responded to Vector.

Then something the spy was even less used to happened: Vector turned around, as invisible to most eyes as ever, and walked out.

If Kaliyo had been with him, they wouldn't have made it halfway into the facility without blowing something up, let alone all the way out. This time, Cipher Nine's partner walked up to the objective, sabotaged it, and walked out without incident. The spy spent the entire trip out marveling at that fact.

If only Vector weren't an alien.

When they finally made it out of the facility, past panicked and confused guards and defensive turrets with no response pattern to this sort of situation, Cipher Nine asked the most important question.

"What does the Joining do, exactly?"

This time, Vector didn't flinch or flicker in irritation. Still, he must have been surprised. Cipher Nine had been so desperate to avoid the Killiks that he'd never stayed to ask questions before. No doubt the Joiner had assumed he was incurious.

Then Vector nodded and started to explain. "The Joining is a natural part of the Killik hive, a product of their pheromones. It changes us fundamentally. We begin to hear the song of the nest..."

Vector spoke the entire trip back to House Cortese, and Cipher Nine did his best to repress the bile that rose in his throat. He could admit the benefits of abilities like instantaneous communication and being able to see a being's electromagnetic aura. He'd even say having creatures like the fingerlings on telepathic remote was useful. But the fact that it went the other way, that the hive could read everything in Vector's mind, made him sick. Why would anyone want a group of aliens, let alone bugs, in his mind?

When he asked about the hive mind, Vector explained how, as Dawn Herald and ambassador, he was allowed more independence than most. That, at least, explained the difference between him and the lady Thul.

But it all confirmed what Cipher Nine suspected, what he could see plain as the trees: Vector Hyllis was not human. That made him unreliable.

They met up with the Killik army and joined up with Kaliyo to storm the Cortese estate. Twice, Kaliyo had to save Cipher Nine from poking out of cover a moment too early. He had to admit to himself that he was distracted, and it was playing havoc with his vision. He was comfortable with the idea of trusting Vector, and that thought made him uncomfortable. It was a paradox he that left his head quietly churning with doubts.

It was when Baron Peyar Cortese murdered his own wife as a show of fealty that everything Cipher Nine had been contemplating crystallized.

"She was a prisoner of war," Cipher Nine said in a voice barely above a murmur, "and your wife."

"It was necessary," the baron said firmly, "to prove my word. Now, send your… insects away from this place. We can discuss further recompense as civilized people."

 _It was necessary, to prove my word._ That statement might have repeated in the spy's mind for hours if the life-bright figure behind him hadn't replied to the Baron.

"We're afraid that's not your decision, Baron," Vector explained. "Denri Ayl and the baroness are dead. With our assistance, the terrorist funding has been stopped. Now the nest will claim its price."

Cipher Nine didn't quite turn. His hand inched towards his rifle. Slowly, subtly. With controlled calm, he asked, "what are you talking about, Vector?"

"House Cortese will make a perfect extension of the hive," Vector said. "These rooms will become egg chambers and membrosia pools. The family can become Joiners."

Baran Peyar slowly backed away as he realized what Vector was saying. He cried out in horror, "what? You cannot do this! I gave you my wife!"

"House Cortese opposed the Empire and must be subdued," Vector argued reasonably. "The nest is growing and must expand its territory."

It did make sense. If you were an alien insect.

There was a part of Cipher Nine that wanted to hand Baron Peyar over, just so that he could pay for the crime of betraying and murdering his own wife. Somehow, that seemed far more terrible than the baroness' betrayal of the Empire. It hadn't been a sacrifice for the greater good, or out of loyalty to the Empire. It had been an act of pure selfishness, to save the old bastard's own skin.

"Wait," the miralukan commanded. "These are human beings you want to do this to."

"These are my lands," the baron interrupted.

Glaring at the old man past his visor, Cipher Nine snarled, "stay out of this."

Vector waited a moment, just long enough to be sure the Imperial agent had said his piece, then answered, "we understand you consider this a punishment, but the nest does not differentiate between the actions of an individual and those of the nest. House Cortese has opposed the Empire. You have no reason to object."

There was a sickening, burbling noise from one of the Killiks in the room, its version of speech.

A troubled look came over Vector's face, and his light rioted with suppressed passion.

"Agent," he said, "we – I – must know if you intend to oppose us. If you do, the nest will fight to defend its claim."

Cipher Nine finally turned to face Vector fully. That meant a lot, and yet very little. He focused on the brightness before him, and yet watched the entire room in a way no other species could. Still, there was a certain respect in "looking" at the corrupted human. It meant something, to the sighted species.

"Would you fight me, too, Vector?" The spy's voice was deadly calm. It left no doubt what the outcome would be for any who stood up to the will of the Empire.

"We..." Vector trailed off for a moment, and his light rioted in a way that only came of powerful conflict. The Cipher waited with a hand centimeters from a poisoned blade. "… would not," Vector finished after a second. "Our loyalty to the Empire comes first."

Cipher Nine's hand didn't move.

Vector claimed he couldn't lie, that a side effect of his Joining made dishonesty almost impossible. Of course, that was a perfect cover for deception. No spy, especially one who'd spent months working with Kaliyo Djannis, would take such a claim at face value.

 _Our loyalty to the Empire comes first._

There had been a man on Nal Hutta, on the first mission Cipher Nine had ever completed. Back when he'd had a name. That man was never very bright, but he never wavered or shifted. Good traits, in the spy's opinion. They'd gotten along, even if Cipher Nine had been posing as a pirate the entire time.

Cipher Nine had killed the man. He hadn't wanted to, and it wouldn't have been necessary in a perfect galaxy, but he couldn't refuse the kill order. He couldn't afford to show a hint of disloyalty.

On Balmorra, there was a man who wavered but didn't shift, one who reached out to others instinctively. A poor spy, but a good man. He'd urged Cipher Nine to make dangerous decisions, not realizing how precarious an alien's position is.

The miralukan had been tempted. Who wouldn't be? He'd had the chance to save Imperial lives. As an alien, surely he had the leeway in the resistance group he was infiltrating? What rebel would suspect the alien in their midst of being a servant of the Empire?

That spy had been killed right in front of Cipher Nine, caught trying to save Imperial lives.

Cipher Nine met a woman on Tatooine, bright and stormy, with just enough firmness. A rebel, and yet Cipher Nine had been forced to respect her. They'd met when she tried to use a flash grenade on him. He'd almost laughed at the attempt, giving her a peek under his visor to spark her trust.

They'd parted when he'd betrayed that trust, handing her over to Imperial authorities for interrogation.

Looking, focusing, staring at Vector Hyllis, Cipher Nine could see what sort of man he was. He had the brightness of life, the give of somebody who accepted new things, the feathery threads of one who cared for others. He was another good person, corrupted or not.

Cipher Nine's hand finally fell away from his weapon, at least fractionally.

"Baron Peyar," the Cipher spoke up, turning to face the nobleman.

"Surely you don't plan to leave us to those things," protested the old man.

"You may go free," Cipher Nine said soothingly. Peyar breathed a sigh of relief, and the killiks started making unpleasant noises.

"On a condition," Cipher Nine continued, holding a hand out to halt the killiks. "Draw up a document renouncing House Cortese's claim on this land, and ceding it to the killiks."

"You can't be serious!"

"If you would rather become Joiners, that can be arranged," answered the spy reasonably. "But this method leaves you alive and ensures no one comes after the killik nest later. A fitting exchange for the lives of House Cortese."

He turned to Vector. "Friendship, or force, Vector?"

Vector sparked, and even gave the most infinitesimal smile.

A minute passed, where Baron Peyar sputtered halfhearted protests and Vector consulted with the killiks. Eventually, Vector replied, "the killiks have the ability to fight off any attack that might result from their aggression, but we have convinced them that the nest will benefit more from a time of peace than they would have from the Joiners of House Cortese."

Cipher Nine only nodded to the Joiner, then turned back to Baron Peyar. "The killiks will honour their deal. I'm told they cannot lie. The choice is up to you."

The old man continued to sputter impotently until Cipher Nine took a step forward and, with all the force of his will, demanded, "choose."

"I will sign the treaty," said the man who would soon be Baron of Nothing.

Cipher Nine nodded and waved Vector forward. Paperwork was for after missions. The spy was happy leaving the rest to the diplomat.

"Kaliyo," he said mildly as he walked past the killiks, "I doubt anything else interesting is going to happen here. Not anything you'd want to see, in any case."

"Yeah, whatever, agent," Kaliyo replied, already jogging to catch up.

Cipher Nine had made a different decision today. For once, he felt like he'd won, come out ahead in this zero-sum game of life. For once, he hadn't been forced to make the same choice he'd been making for almost a year, to sacrifice somebody just to demonstrate loyalty. Even so, that wasn't where his sense of victory came from.

Vector Hyllis was a corrupted human, suspected of changing too much, of no longer being loyal to the Empire. He was being treated with the same suspicion as any alien.

Today, Cipher Nine had heard Vector declare loyalty to the Empire, and decided on trust. Tests could wait, sacrifices could wait. Vector Hyllis was a good man, even if he was only barely a man. The Empire could wait for his first difficult decision.

Cipher Nine had chosen to extend a hand rather than a fist, and he'd been rewarded. Maybe the Empire, too, could learn from Vector Hyllis.


	3. Chapter 3

10 ASC

Cipher Nine knew who was on the dreadnought from the moment he first set foot on it. Vector made comments about the sterile, empty environment and Kaliyo was uncharacteristically silent, but neither actually understood what was wrong. Watcher Two assumed the cloaking devices on their ships had worked, even after she noticed how empty the hanger that they'd infiltrated was. All the ingrained respect and discipline in the miralukan had barely kept him from yelling at her.

They hadn't escaped notice. Kaliyo wasn't being silent because they were sneaking around. There was not a jamming field around the ship _by coincidence_.

Somebody knew they were there, and Cipher Nine could see as Kaliyo all but physically batted away the seeking tendrils and Vector's light dimmed under their assault. He just lied to himself because, if he was right, they were all going to die without even getting word to the Empire.

Vector was surprised that Cipher Nine opted against cloaking as they walked to the bridge. Kaliyo, who'd been with him much longer, was even more so. The agent didn't tell them why, didn't tell them that, if he was right, eyes were the last thing their enemy would use to find them.

He didn't tell them they might as well go out standing instead of sneaking.

He stalled. Checked computer terminals on the way, trying to find anything he could use. All he found was holo-logs of the people who'd once lived on this ship, but slowly succumbed to the "master". It did nothing for his morale.

Finally, he walked onto the bridge and got his first clear view of the Sith Lord. The miralukan could have seen from as far as the hangar, but he'd been afraid. Like looking at a sun, he supposed. Only, in this case, the sun was made of fear, and it cast rays that left no shadows to hide in.

"You feel that prickling? Like maggots."

Cipher Nine wondered for a second whether Vector would be offended at that comment. Instead, the Joiner just nodded his agreement.

"Like rot within the hive," he said. "There is taint spreading through the Unity."

Then Darth Jaedus turned from the bridge. He walked towards the trio and spoke. "So. You've arrived at last."

Cipher Nine tried to work up the nerve to reply as Watcher Two said something over the comm implant he didn't pay attention to. Then the Sith Lord continued, "I expected too little of you. You served me well on Hutta and on Dromund Kaas; I should have known you would serve me again."

"Serve you," the spy repeated, his mind racing even as he watched the sickening tendrils clutching at it.

Darth Jaedus nodded. "Everything that has transpired has been at my command. My will is the destiny of lesser men."

 _I should have sent Kaliyo to sabotage the ship,_ Cipher Nine thought. He'd been too afraid, too distracted to do anything but wander towards death like an insect towards a flame.

The Sith Lord continued, "once before, you were inoculated by the dark side. I will speak now as I spoke then. Accept the gift of your life, agent… and we will discuss terror, the Empire, and the Sith."

Cipher Nine nodded, ignoring Kaliyo and Vector, who were struggling not to flinch at every word. Their efforts against Jaedus' influence were more futile than even the Cipher's. He could see Vector's connection to the nest slowly corroding under the assault.

"As you wish," said the spy.

"Be careful agent," came the voice of Watcher Two. "please, be careful. I'm trying to analyze the situation, but it'll take time. And if he has the command codes..."

 _Try to find that out,_ Cipher Nine noted to himself.

Cipher Nine ignored the story Darth Jaedus began to tell, thinking to himself about how he was going to stop this man who'd betrayed the Empire. Another part of him hoped that Darth Jaedus was as self-absorbed as he seemed, and wouldn't see the deception brewing in the Cipher's mind.

Darth Jaedus' power killed the people near him. From his story, it sounded as if he'd taken a select few loyal to him, then never replenished them. The holo-logs implied the people on this ship had been slowly indoctrinated, but many of them hadn't survived the process. That meant the ship was largely uninhabited. Perfect for sneaking around. Nightmarish for hiding from Force senses.

Then Cipher Nine caught something in the monologue.

"I was there for the terrorist attack," he mentioned politely. "Intelligence was sure you were dead."

Jaedus' face twisted into a triumphant grin, though Cipher Nine supposed nobody else could see it. "Line of sight" was a funny thing for those with eyes. "The shvash gas only incinerated part of the ship. My power held together the remains."

"Keep him talking," Watcher Two advised. "Damn it, we can't fight him on our own – his power is second to the Emperor's."

 _I can see that,_ thought Cipher Nine. _You'd better be coming up with something over there, Watcher._

Darth Jaedus was obviously leading up to the particulars of his power grab. Let Watcher Two deal with long-term details. How did a man like Cipher Nine – how did three aliens stop a Sith Lord feared even by other Dark Council members?

The answer was obvious: they couldn't. He could see it in the air, in his companions' faltering light. They were being hurt by the Sith Lord's presence. There was no way they could survive his wrath.

And if they couldn't stop him, there were only a few options. Give up and die, fight and die, or join him and live.

There was a moment, just one, when the Cipher considered that last option. What had the Empire ever done for him, really? He was beaten down and spit on whenever they deigned to remember his race. He'd spent his entire life proving his loyalty, and yet he would be the first in a lineup of suspects when blame was passed for failures. After all his work to build trust, to show that he was better than the others, he was still just an expendable alien.

It was only a moment, and he let himself believe it was Darth Jaedus' influence. Even if the spy was a traitor, he would never stand by while Darth Jaedus' vision of a galaxy built on fear became reality.

In truth, he would never stand by at all.

So, that ruled out joining an evil cause, and it certainly ruled out giving up.

Therefore, he would fight.

Cipher Nine did as he was told, and kept the Sith talking, hoping Watcher Two would come up with something. Every once in a while, he would ask Darth Jaedus to elaborate, and the Sith would gleefully ramble on about the details of his plan.

The first thing to do would be to escape the bridge. Get to the jamming systems and disable them. There had to be somewhere on the ship he could do that, other than the bridge itself.

Pushing aside the shame, Agent Telkwa peered through the ship, stretching his senses as far as they would go, looking for a nexus of energies. Maybe the ship's generators, or a secondary command terminal.

He found them just in time for Watcher Two to interrupt his thoughts.

"I see where this is going. He needs the Eradicators to make this work, but you have half the -"

"Under my rule," Darth Jaedus continued, drowning out the sound of Watcher Two's voice, "all people will revel in fear and degradation. These prizes will no longer be hoarded by the Sith. But without both halves of the Eradicator codes, my weapons cannot be targeted; they will merely cause chaos."

"Not enough to recreate an Empire with," Cipher Nine realized.

"No," Jaedus agreed. "The Eagle's death – your acquisition of his codes – has forced me to adapt. Without orders, the Eradicators will fire blindly. This serves neither of us. Enter your codes into the ship so the Eradicators can target my enemies. You will be rewarded. You will be my herald."

Behind his visor, Cipher Nine raised an eyebrow. "Would you mind elaborating, my lord?"

"Authority, wealth, a place in my vision. The respect Intelligence has denied you."

"What does that mean," asked Watcher Two. Cipher Nine almost snorted. Racism, he could handle. The alien spy accepted that he was less than his peers. The fact that the woman with a mind faster than a supercomputer hadn't noticed how he was treated, though? That was almost funny.

"Blood purity is a notion whose time has passed," Jaedus explained. "Consider an Empire where there is no limit to what an alien might become."

 _That sounds like a weak Empire to me,_ scoffed the spy.

There still wasn't enough information. So he stalled, and lied. "I need time. It's… a lot to take in."

He didn't get much more, though. Instead, Darth Jaedus did the most unexpected thing: after a brief series of threats, he simply turned around and let Cipher Nine consider.

"Alright, stay focused and don't look at Jaedus," said Watcher Two, completely ignoring the fact that miralukans couldn't look at anything. Still, he understood the principle. Cipher Nine had always found it easier to read people when they focused on him. Presumably, the same applied to Sith.

"How are you holding up," she asked. "Can we put together a plan?"

 _Of sorts_. "I know what I'm going to do," he murmured.

"Before you make any decisions, please, hear me out," said Watcher Two. "We need to re-examine our priorities. We came here to stop the Eradicators, but we weren't prepared for reality. Our plan now has to focus on neutralizing Darth Jaedus – everything else is peripheral."

"We're about to lose dozens of worlds, and that's secondary?"

"I'm sorry, Cipher," answered Watcher Two, though it sounded false. "The numbers aren't in our favour.

"You can deactivate the Eradicators right now – just combine the codes in the bridge computers. But to keep Jaedus from reactivating them, you'd have to blow up the ship's reactor. It's a suicide run, and chances are, Jaedus will escape."

 _Die to save the Empire?_ Without turning around, Cipher Nine looked at Kaliyo. What were the odds the treacherous woman would help them instead of running for their ship? _Normally, I might take two out of three. But I still have no way off the bridge._

"Do you have any other suggestions," he asked.

Watcher Two's answer was prompt. "We trick Jaedus. We give him the codes and let him launch his attack. Once the Eradicators start their bombardment, you slip off the bridge and take this ship apart. Sabotage the hyperdrive, jamming field, and shields. Then I call in reinforcements, forcing Jaedus to surrender. The Eradicators are deactivated as soon as feasible."

Under his gloves, Cipher Nine's knuckles went white. This was exactly the sort of thing he'd done for the Empire since day one, just on a scale… "How many people," he asked. "How many worlds are sacrificed?"

"Let's be clear," said the Watcher in a placating tone, "if we give Jaedus the command codes then, yes, he'll murder thousands before we stop him. But the human cost is acceptable. The only alternative is to let Jaedus escape and do worse down the line."

 _The human cost is acceptable,_ Watcher Two had said. And when Cipher Nine had asked Jaedus, w _hy do so many civilians have to die,_ he'd only replied, _how better to mark the change of an era?_

 _They're more alike than I'd ever imagined,_ the spy admitted to himself.

 _This isn't glamorous work, we're sanitation workers,_ Keeper had once told him. _We do whatever is necessary, even if it's thankless and ugly._

 _Our job's to obey orders. Our job's to deal with the enemy._ Fixer Twelve.

There'd been a lot of advice for him, that first day at headquarters.

Slowly, deliberately, Cipher Nine turned to face Darth Jaedus.

The thing about Force-sensitive empathy was that it helped when the target focused on the sensitive. Since Cipher Nine was miralukan, facing the Sith was nothing like a human keeping his eyes on the man. Instead, Cipher Nine kept his attention on Vector. In spite of the Joiner's sudden isolation, he still shone with a light that wouldn't yield to Jaedus' darkness. That made it easier, somehow, for the spy to say what he said next.

"Alright." Jaedus turned back around to give Cipher Nine his full attention, but the smaller man ignored him, watching only the flickering war of Vector against the Sith's influence. "I won't pretend it's an easy decision, my lord. I am a loyal man... Where should I input the codes?"

Jaedus smiled behind his mask, and one of his guards pointed to a console to the Cipher's left.

Vector stared at him in shock.

"We..." he faltered, almost stumbling under the combined weight of his newfound isolation and Jaedus' power. "We cannot allow this."

Vector reached for his vibrostaff, but Kaliyo grabbed his hand.

"Don't be stupid, bug-man," warned the rattattaki, clearly having trouble holding the Joiner back. "The agent here's got good instincts. If he thinks its a lost cause, I say we go with it."

"No!"

Jaedus watched with warring amusement and frustration as Vector threw Kaliyo across the room, but Cipher Nine was on the Joiner in an instant. Vector froze with a blade discoloured by poison pressed to his throat.

The agent should have expected this, but even after such a short time together, he was too used to Vector being reliable. Cipher Nine had hesitated, then Kaliyo had escalated. Could he blame the Joiner, though? They'd only been together a short while, a couple of missions. Why would Vector trust Cipher Nine, an alien whose real name he didn't even know, to stay loyal to the Empire?

"Darth Jaedus," Cipher Nine called, knife still pressed to the taller man's throat, "I trust the killik people of Alderaan will be just as warmly welcomed as other aliens? They really are a fascinating species."

He knew what Jaedus' reply would be, and even as Vector flashed with rage that even the Sith's aura couldn't suppress, Cipher Nine spoke. Quietly, he whispered, "we have a plan."

There was something to be said for Joiners. That ability to see electromagnetic auras with such precision, for example… almost akin to miralukan sight. The Cipher had tested it. Now, he was gambling Vector could see him telling the truth.

Vector's light stopped rioting and his body relaxed.

Louder, Cipher Nine asked, "will you join me, Vector?"

Vector couldn't lie. As a Joiner, he was completely unable to. Cipher Nine had tested that, too. So, when Vector nodded, it was only because Cipher Nine had worded the question carefully.

"Good," said the little man, before turning and walking to the console that held his destiny.

It was a simple thing, condemning tens of thousands – perhaps more – to their deaths. All he did was input the code and call out to Darth Jaedus, telling him that the Empire was his.

Jaedus didn't stop at gloating. He congratulated Cipher Nine, as if some great thing were being done across the Imperial worlds. Then, sensing some part of the spy's revulsion, he offered up his version of compensation: the broadcasted calls for help from every planet under attack would be rerouted to the ship.

Cipher Nine didn't need to fake his horror as bile rose in his throat. "I… should go," he said in a quavering voice.

"You wish to hide from your deeds," said Darth Jaedus. "Very well. But hear this: there is nothing that will let you forget. Let your loathing bring you strength."

Cipher Nine intended to do just that.

The trio retreated as the first transmissions came in, from a mining colony that didn't even know what was happening. Cipher Nine turned right almost immediately, walking past an Imperial so crazed by Darth Jaedus' continued presence that he didn't even notice when the newcomer to the ship leaned over his console and started typing.

In moments, the jamming signal was down. A stern glare from Kaliyo, who was used to making stuff up on the fly, kept Vector's mouth shut.

They walked off the bridge to the sound of confused transmissions. By the time they reached the Engineering deck, Cipher Nine had managed to explain the plan to his comrades.

"This kinda thing takes guts, agent," Kaliyo muttered. "If you get us all killed here, I'll make you regret it."

Then they split up, Kaliyo for the power relays, Vector for the shield generator, and Cipher Nine for the hyperdrive. It was risky, but there were people dying with every second wasted.

Cipher Nine did what he always did, creeping past soldiers on every side, invisible to their human eyes. It was a miracle nobody heard his gasp when a man named Thranc Roulus came over the intercom, begging for permission to evacuate his post, just as terrified of his commanding Sith Lord as the Eradicators.

The hyperdrive hadn't been down for three full seconds before Watcher Two informed him over his implant, "diagnostics show fatal errors in the jamming systems, hyperdrive, and shields. The ship is crippled, Cipher. We've got a full fleet of reinforcements coming, including three Dark Council vessels. Jaedus can't win against them. Until they arrive, you'll have to keep him occupied on the bridge."

For a moment, the miralukan gawked. He was invisible, and it was a sound-only comm, but still.

"How am I supposed to do that?"

"You can't beat Jaedus in personal combat," said Watcher Two, who'd apparently been genetically engineered using billions of credits so that she could state the obvious, "but you might be able to trap him. This ship can generate internal ray shielding. You can reroute the bridge defenses to trap him in a forcefield. Hopefully, it'll hold until the fleet jumps out of lightspeed."

Another transmission sounded, this time a Sith Lord screaming desperately that he would flay Intelligence alive for their failure. It still managed to make Cipher Nine feel guilty when it cut off.

"Alright," he said.

"I don't need to remind you that people are hurting because of us," Watcher Two informed him. She obviously felt the need to go above and beyond her duties. "If we succeed, the sacrifice will be worthwhile. Watcher Two, out."

 _The sacrifice will be worthwhile._ Just more words from an Imperial who didn't seem to understand that they were personally responsible for the deaths of countless innocent people. She might say she knew it, but she didn't understand. She didn't feel it the way Cipher Nine could. The way an… alien like Cipher Nine could.

He almost ran back to the elevator, slipping blades in between vertebrae and hacking droid IFFs the whole way. When he met up with Kaliyo and Vector, they were standing amidst a pile of bodies.

"To the bridge," he said brusquely as he came out of stealth. "Watcher Two has a plan."

Cipher Nine explained about the force field generators, assigned roles, and handed Vector his stealth generator before the elevator reached the bridge level. The doors opened to chaos, but that was nothing new.

They walked as confidently as they could muster back to the bridge. Even Kaliyo, with her unbreakable shell of confidence, almost faltered. Still, she walked beside him. Cipher Nine had no idea what he'd done to warrant that kind of loyalt. Maybe she thought she was out of options.

"We get out of this," she said, "the rounds are on you, agent."

"You mean, first round's on me," Cipher Nine replied as he reprogrammed a particularly violent droid.

"No," Kaliyo said, and blasted a manic Sith in the chest. "You owe me."

Moments later, they were on the bridge, facing Darth Jaedus.

"After what you've done, you still return to face me. How bold." Jaedus' fury roared off him like waves in a hurricane. Cipher Nine had to reach out a steadying hand to Vector. "I never expected you would pay such a price to betray me. So many innocents burning in their homes, because of you."

"You killed them," Cipher Nine spat, but his words rang hollow to his own ears.

"Is that so," mused Jaedus. "The Eradicators kill at your command. My defeat may be inevitable now. I do not know. But your perfidy must be answered. You will die, along with many others."

His hand shot out, and lightning arced over the space the trio had been standing an instant before. The metal scorched, but the electricity didn't kill them. The miracles of the dark side, perhaps.

Cipher Nine and Kaliyo fired over the makeshift cover of computer terminals. Vector was nowhere to be seen.

Darth Jaedus didn't even move. Why would he? He was the most powerful Sith Lord any of them would ever see. Kaliyo ducked and cursed as her shots were batted back towards her. Cipher Nine filled the air with blaster fire, not even bothering to aim properly. It wasn't as if he could hurt Jaedus.

"We will kill you, Jaedus," Cipher Nine yelled. He rolled into the open and fired a sleep dart, then his rifle.

He fell backwards with a cry of alarm as Jaedus' lightsaber cut through his blaster rifle, then returned to the Sith's hand. Kaliyo didn't let up her stream of blaster fire – or cursing – but it did no good. Jaedus held out a hand, and the blasterfire simply washed against a luminescent barrier.

Cipher Nine drew his pistol, mostly out of habit, and fired. It didn't really matter that he was still standing in the middle of the bridge with no cover. Jaedus would kill him all the same.

As if to prove the spy right, the tendrils of power descended on Kaliyo. Cipher Nine's warning yell was too late, and useless. The tendrils tightened and Kaliyo reached for her throat, gasping for breath that wouldn't come.

Cipher Nine's hands sweated into his gloves as he pulled the trigger over and over again, but the plasma only washed against Jaedus' barrier.

So the spy screamed and charged at the Sith Lord, firing wildly in a vain attempt to distract the Force-user. It was, by far, the stupidest thing he'd ever done. But it worked. Jaedus turned and swiped at Cipher Nine almost lazily. He missed and the spy drew one of his daggers to attack, firing his blaster the entire time.

A string of hoarse epithets told Cipher Nine his partner was still alive.

Jaedus struck again, and this time his attack cut through Cipher Nine's knife, armour, and a small chunk of his right bicep. The alien didn't even have time to curse before the lightsaber came back towards him.

Cipher Nine sidestepped the blade.

He could see where it was going. Jaedus was blinding; seeing what he was about to do was like following a subtle instrument in a symphony, but the principle was basic. Every attack came the same way as any from one of the dozens the Imperial agent had killed over the last year. Every attack had a path it followed, a future that would come true. Cipher Nine only had to follow that future's ripple in the Force and avoid it.

This technique worked for exactly one more strike which, honestly, was three total attacks more than the spy had expected to live. The spy dodged left when he should pulled back, and Jaedus' lightsaber took him in the side, carving right into one of his ribs. It went no further.

Shock set in as Cipher Nine realized he'd managed to grab Darth Jaedus' arms, preventing the Sith from cutting him in half.

There was a light clunk, then a burst of energy, light and sound, and both human and miralukan cried out. Jaedus actually dropped his lightsaber and reached to cover his eyes.

Cipher Nine recovered from the flashbang quicker, though. Unlike Darth Jaedus, he hadn't been blinded. The spy managed to slam a fist into Jaedus' lightly-armoured throat and trigger a sleep dart.

Then a fist slammed into Cipher Nine's chest powerfully enough to snap his weakened rib and knock him off the bridge dais. The entire world started fading as Kaliyo knelt over him, slamming a syringe into his shoulder.

He managed to make out Kaliyo's yell merging with Jaedus' own, and the air was filled with the light of power. The corrugated metal of the floor was the single most uncomfortable thing he'd ever felt, and not where he'd prefer to die. With effort, the spy managed to rest his pistol in his leg and add his blasterfire to Kaliyo's.

The air filled with lethal intent. It coalesced and focused, and Cipher Nine managed to make it out. He grunted a warning, but Kaliyo didn't hear.

Then the lightning came down on both of them, and they screamed. They screamed in the agony of fire. It obliterated every other sensation. The last thing Cipher Nine heard was a crackling buzz. The last thing he smelled was burning flesh and hair. The last thing he felt was indescribable.

And then his heart stopped.

"Agent?"

Cipher Nine woke without the strength to voice the scream he felt.

He was on his back on the floor. Vector stood above him and Kaliyo knelt over him, several spent syringes on the ground beside her. Darth Jaedus was caged, his power doing its best to eat away at the force field he'd been trapped in.

"Well, I'll be a womp-rat's backside. Nice going, bug-man."

Vector nodded without letting Kaliyo know how much he didn't appreciate the nickname. The two of them helped Cipher Nine stand. Movement felt ghastly. The spy didn't bother trying to stand up straight.

With a thrill of horror, Cipher Nine limped over to the Eradicator console and input the codes, killing the machines. He slumped against the console with a sigh of relief.

"Your cage cannot hold me," came Jaedus' voice, deadly quiet. "Whatever you hope to achieve, your moment will pass."

Then the fleet dropped out of hyperspace.

 _That was fast,_ Cipher Nine thought as the first salvos flew.

There was a moment where he was certain he blacked out and, when he awoke, it was to Keeper's voice.

"-eeper. We have the fleet in position to destroy this vessel. Please report."

"Situation is under control, sir," said the agent, standing up.

"Understood. We'll proceed with restraint," Keeper replied formally. "Lord Jaedus? Be advised that a boarding party of Sith and honour guards is on its way. I suggest you not draw their ire."

"I understand," growled Jaedus.

"Cipher. I understand you have control over the Eradicators. Can you disable them?"

"Already done, sir," Cipher Nine said.

"We can discuss why you activated the Eradicators later, but I expect the Dark Council will approve of the result," said Keeper. "I'll see you shortly."

Then the console's holocomm went dead. Or Cipher Nine assumed it did. The dim energy that holos threw out ended, but he couldn't hear the usual beep over the residual ringing in his ears.

Vector steadied him now, as he stumbled down the few stairs onto the computer-heavy section of the bridge, away from Jaedus.

"The Song of the Universe is resuming," Vector told him. "The nest must now regenerate."

"I must now regenerate," Kaliyo barked. "I need some drinks, then I'm getting laid."

She gave Cipher Nine a smirk.

"Uh-uh," rasped the Cipher, letting his professional manner slip a touch. "You can find some other fool. I like beds I can fly away from after the mission's over."

Kaliyo rolled her eyes, almost gave Vector a look, then seemed to decide against it.

"The Joiner is unnerved by your actions," Jaedus interrupted, "your callousness towards your own kind. Tell me, Cipher Nine: was your victory worth it? How many lives would you have sacrificed to capture me?"

Cipher Nine's blade was in his hand by instinct as he stumbled back towards the cage. Then he stopped, white-knuckled and gritted teeth, and turned away.

"The response of one who cannot face the truth," mocked Jaedus. "Under my control, the Eradicators' purge would have cut out the Empire's rot. Now the Dark Council will reassert its strength. They will punish me or destroy me. And without a revolution, their cruel, pointless reign will go on."

He was right. Like Keeper had said, the Sith would approve of what Cipher Nine had done here. How could he support a regime that made monsters like himself and Darth Jaedus?

How could he live with himself, as the monster he was now?

"At least," he said, "I know it's better than what you would have brought."

"Then be content with the Empire you have chosen," Jaedus concluded, and allowed Cipher Nine to turn away.

Watcher Two walked in before the trio could get off the bridge. She was barking orders to a squad of soldiers. As she turned towards Cipher Nine, he knew she was going to talk to him, and he silently cursed her. Why couldn't she leave him in peace? She'd already helped make him a mass-murderer. It had been her plan to begin with! Now she wouldn't let him go back to his ship and rest?

Not even close to what he deserved. But, perhaps that sort of callousness was just what the Empire was.

"Cipher! Are you alright? You had it rough..."

Cipher Nine almost punched her in her oblivious face.

"Do I look alright to you," he spat.

"You look like you've gone through worse than anyone deserves," she said, and the note of true sympathy in her brought her into focus. "The Sith and the military will be cleaning up a while, and the damage from the Eradicators will take time to assess. You should get out of here. You've done your part. Get some rest."

Cipher Nine actually stared at her. Perhaps she felt it, because she shifted uncomfortably. Finally, the spy said, "later. Just because we've dealt with one threat doesn't mean there aren't others."

Whether she understood his need to keep moving or risk seriously thinking about what he'd done, or she just took his statement at face value, Cipher Nine wasn't sure. It didn't really matter. Watcher Two replied, "of course. Consider yourself awaiting reassignment."

She let the small man walk past with his two companions and said, just loudly enough for him to hear, "after all, the Empire needs us."

It was those words that finally broke Cipher Nine.


	4. Chapter 4

11 ATC

"Imperial Intelligence has leaked documents to the SIS suggesting that one of our trustworthy agents has been… traumatized."

"You objective is to earn their confidence, uncover their plans, and eliminate Ardun Kothe himself."

"This sort of work can be psychologically taxing."

"Bury your loyalties for this one, Cipher."

"Code name Hunter. Strategic Information Service."

"Factory doors are sealing!" "Relax. There's a speeder pad close by. Move fast enough, and you might even make it."

The words swirled in Cipher Nine's head as he entered the SIS base.

"Imperial Intelligence has leaked documents to the SIS suggesting that one of our trustworthy agents has been… traumatized." Six months had passed since Eradication Day, and the agent had thought he'd gotten past it. The last few months, he hadn't woken up in a cold sweat once, and Vector hadn't made one comment about how Cipher Nine's aura reached out for nothing. Then it was like those words set off something inside him.

"Traumatized," Keeper – once Watcher Two – had said, in that tone of almost-sympathy she was so good at. But she didn't understand. Only Vector understood. Both men were tied into the flow of life in the galaxy, in their own way. They'd felt every life snuffed out, every life that flickered and eventually gave up under the barrage of the Eradicators. Every life that Cipher Nine was responsible for ending.

"Traumatized," Keeper had said. She didn't know even a fraction of it.

The base was plain in architecture, but so beautifully alive, like every building and street and pile of rubble on Nar Shadaa. It felt fundamentally different from entering the Imperial Intelligence base more than a year ago. Even without Darth Jadus present to spread his poison, Imperial Intelligence had always been a subdued place, especially in contrast to the riot of power within the Sith Sanctum so nearby.

A human male and female twi'lek sparred on one side of the room. He was dim and flickered every time she attacked, where she was solid and unyielding. Nearby, a droid sat across a dejarik table from Hunter.

Now Hunter, he was a weird one. No, not weird. Disturbing. Because she looked exactly like Cipher Nine did – a solid core, imperfect and a little battered, but strong, sheathed in a layer of malleable water. It flowed as she spoke in that bizarrely deep voice, just as it did for Cipher Nine. He'd never met somebody he distrusted so quickly. It didn't help that she kept a shield generator up even in her own base. That spoke volumes of how much she trusted SIS's newest recruit.

Hunter introduced each of her compatriots. "Saber," she said, pointing dismissively at the twi'lek woman.

"Four years sniper training," Saber said by way of greeting, hefting a powerful sniper rifle. "We should swap stories."

Cipher Nine hadn't actually fired a sniper rifle since training. He disliked the focus it required, how it drew his mind to a single point when he should be able to see everything around him. Still, he gave a polite nod as Hunter continued her introductions.

The human male was Chance, the slicer, and the droid was an official member of the team, named Wheel. "He" was the technology specialist.

Cipher Nine gave a small smile. "This might actually be pleasant," he joked, "providing I don't have to work with Hunter too often."

They laughed and Saber said, "eh, he'll grow on you."

"No doubt you have plenty of experience working with people you're not fond of," interrupted a radiant force-sensitive man behind Cipher Nine.

Cipher Nine turned, just like any sighted being would do, to face the jedi.

"Ardun Kothe, head of division," the jedi said. "Come with me."

The head of the SIS division Cipher Nine had been chosen to infiltrate was a jedi.

 _Keeper wants me dead,_ the Cipher thought, _it's the only possible explanation._

He couldn't even bring himself to be scared. With an internal sigh, he followed Ardun Kothe into the next room.

"Four months ago, I start getting messages from a source in the Empire," Kothe started as Cipher Nine entered the room. "Claims to be a Cipher agent."

Four months of prep work. Had Cipher Nine been the agent in mind from the start? Probably not. They would have informed him months ago in that case. He could have had far more time to prep.

"Now a factory's in ruins and here we are. I'm starting to think you might be real."

"I'm used to hostility, sir," Cipher Nine admitted. He wasn't going to risk lying to a jedi. "Take all the time you need. I'll keep proving myself."

Kothe raised an eyebrow. "I got a copy of your personnel file. Says you were traumatized on Eradication Day. Ten thousand people dead, so you could finish a mission. That what made you want to flip?"

Ten thousand people. That was wrong. The correct number was 10,231. A number like that didn't deserve to be rounded. It meant something. Kaliyo could laugh and marvel at the body count like it was some sort of record, but when she got enough drinks in her, even she would spit on the name of Imperial Intelligence and the casual way they'd thrown away so many lives. The casual way Cipher Nine had thrown away so many lives.

"Is that all the file said?"

"It's all you need to know that I know," Ardun Kothe said reasonably.

"No," said Cipher Nine, reaching up to pull back a hood he was told matched the colour of Sith robes, "it isn't."

He ran a hand through hair that was, "blond, like the sand of Alderaan's sea shores," and released the clasps on his headgear, the equipment that hid his eyes behind a computer display for the sighted and gave him perfect integrated communications technology. The clasp clicked open, he closed his mouth and slid the lower band off his chin, pulling the entire contraption from his face like the mask it was.

If Kothe was surprised, it didn't show. He didn't even flicker, let alone flinch. It was just like Vector had reacted. That was comforting, somehow.

"My… species..." Telkwa forced out the words, suppressing the shame as best he could, trying to throw up a mask even as he bared himself to a stranger, and failing miserably. "I am force-sensitive… to a degree. Nothing like a Sith, but enough to 'see', after a fashion. Enough to have felt every death I caused that day. Ten thousand, two hundred and thirty-one because it would make a good distraction."

Telkwa shuddered. Kothe's aura flickered this time.

"Every death you caused?"

Telkwa nodded. "My Watcher came up with the plan. Darth Jadus needed codes only I had to activate the Eradicators. Without them, they would have fired blindly on civilian targets. Jadus would have killed us and escaped to try again. Instead, I gave him the codes he needed, and survived long enough for the Dark Council to send reinforcements… He broadcast the cries for help across the entire ship."

Kothe looked like he was about to say something, but Telkwa continued on, louder. "They reprimanded me for allowing military infrastructure to be damaged, then gave me a medal for saving the Empire! Because all the Dark Council or Imperial Intelligence cared about was keeping the right Sith in power!"

The room went silent. It occurred to Telkwa only then that he could have been overheard, but the rest of Kothe's people had left.

Eventually, Kothe nodded and pressed a button on his desk. "Saber?" Energy flickered above the terminal, presumably a holographic image of Saber. "Tell the deck another card is in play. Code name: Legate."

"Acknowledged. Tell him congratulations."

The hologram flickered out, and Kothe rounded his desk towards his newest recruit. "I'm prepping operations on the planet Taris, couple of other places. Join up with our forces there, I'll give you your first job," he said. "You're on my team now, Legate. A double agent inside the Empire… someone to help me win this war."

Telkwa nodded. He'd said all he needed to say.

"One more thing before you go," said the spymaster, "and I'm sorry to say this. Keyword: onomatophobia."

Keyword: onomatophobia.

"Thesh protocol, phase one."

Thesh protocol, phase one.

His head – why couldn't he think straight? His body went numb.

"Thesh protocol engaged," said Telkwa's mouth. "Shutting down."

His legs bent, and he knelt. He raised his head towards Kothe, and the radiance of the world dimmed and blackened.

"I don't know if you can hear me anymore..." And then he couldn't.

For a time, he didn't know how long, Telkwa's world was so silent he couldn't hear his own heartbeat, so dark he couldn't see himself or Kothe or even Vector. He almost forgot what taste was, wasn't even sure he still had a body to feel. He idly realized his nose had a smell that he'd just tuned out his entire life. Then the hallucinations started – his own mind trying to cope with the lack of input. He could swear he heard voices, Chance and Watcher X. He saw the insidious darkness of Darth Jadus, smelled the electric damp of Dromuun Kaas, felt the firm grip of the Imperial troops who'd taken him from his family.

Then he was back.

"-half an hour. Wake up."

Kothe's radiance had distracted Telkwa from the cracks in the man, the twists and blackened edges. He should have known.

Now, he stood up as he was ordered. He didn't even try to attack. What would be the point, against a jedi who'd somehow managed to take control of the spy's body?

It wasn't even the loss of control that hurt, or the feeling of betrayal itself. It was the loss of hope. Telkwa had been willing to turn his back on the Empire, had even been looking forward to helping take down a nation so corrupt it let creatures like Darth Jadus rise to their highest seats of power.

It had taken less than a day for the Republic to prove it was no better.

What he wanted to know was, why?

"I am awake. Awaiting orders," he said with a salute.

That wasn't right.

"Let's walk through some exercises," Kothe said. "Sit down."

Telkwa walked over to the seat at Kothe's desk and sat down.

"Now jump, please."

Before Telkwa could sarcastically ask how high, he'd sprung to his feet, as high as he'd ever jumped in his life.

"Aim your rifle."

In a smooth and practiced motion, Telkwa's hands grasped his rifle and drew it, placing it against his shoulder and pointed directly at Kothe.

Telkwa didn't even bother taking the safety off. It appeared there was some room for interpretation of his orders. No point making a show of hostility now, so he might as well make a test instead.

"Revert to phase zero. You can talk now."

Whatever phase zero was, it allowed Telkwa to ask his question. "Why?"

Kothe flickered again, and he winced in momentary guilt. With a wave of his hand, he caused Telkwa to holster his rifle. "You won't be able to tell anyone about us or your programming. You also won't be able to hurt members of my team. It's all a precaution, in case your real loyalty is still with the Empire."

Telkwa wanted his mask back on now, this very instant, but he still couldn't move without Kothe's say-so.

"Is there anything else I should know," was all he asked.

"The team will be given your keyword," Kothe volunteered. "They will be just as capable of giving you orders as I am. Aside from that, nothing you need to know."

"You betrayed me," Telkwa spat. "You never even gave me a chance."

"I'm sorry," Kothe said, and he almost seemed sincere. "They say principles are the first casualty of war. I still need you, Legate. You head to Taris, and we can beat the Empire together. With the lives we save, maybe we'll both find redemption. Dismissed."

It took a second and a shiver down his arm for Telkwa to realize he could move again. He picked up his headgear, contemplating the energy running through the equipment, and said, "all I wanted was a chance at redemption."

He raised the piece so that it almost touched his face. "Ten thousand. Two hundred. Thirty-one lives."

He'd never counted the lives he'd taken from Jadus' own crew-

Facing Kothe, Telkwa slipped on his mask, snapped the clasps tight, and pulled up his hood.

-and he never would.

"Give those lives back, and you can have your Imperial droid, Ardun Kothe," said Legate.

Then the agent turned away from the Imperial in Jedi's clothing and left.


	5. Chapter 5

11 ATC

"Lord Phaaral. Age 27, Pure-blood Sith. Identifying marks: scarring across left side of body following Eradication Day attack on Imperial Outpost Aurek-295, planet Sernpidal – incidental thanks to Darth Zhorrid's busy mouth for that information.

"Reason for investigation: deaths of 78 Imperial troops during Eradicator bombardment, from the bombardment itself or Lord Phaaral's own hand. Lord Phaaral refused to allow evacuation of Aurek-295 during bombardment for reasons unknown. Speculation: pride?

"History: Tenem Phaaral was born into the family Phaaral, a pure-blood family with enough history to keep him protected and pampered his entire life. Enrolled into the Sith academy at age 14, his only distinguishing characteristic seems to have been a vicious streak to put Vitiate to shame. Selected as an acolyte by-"

"HEY AGENT!"

"Bwagh!" Legate whirled on the sound of his crewmate's voice, arms flailing wildly. He overbalanced, his chair spun underneath him, and he fell to the floor.

"Kaliyo, Agent Legate is working on his documents. Perhaps… we can help you?"

Legate smirked. Good, self-sacrificing Vector. There wasn't anything the man wanted to do less, Legate had no doubt.

Legate had successfully saved his recording device, which he held aloft at about seat height while he languished on his back. In a smooth motion, he ended the recording and rolled back up to his feet. Maybe he'd keep the last part, just to help jog his memory later.

Vector was in the same hall of the ship as Kaliyo, having intercepted her on the way to Legate. Lokin, ever the most intelligent man on the ship, was hiding in the medical bay, far away from the conflict.

Legate's skin crawled at the thought of their newest crewmember. He was imagining it, he knew, because Vector couldn't see anything unusual in the Doctor any more than Legate could. Still, Legate could almost swear there was something squirming around inside Doctor Lokin. It was contained, but it was an evil that was waiting to get out and consume them.

"Not unless you suddenly became an adventurer, bug boy," Kaliyo scoffs, waving a hand dismissively.

Vector ripples, just a bit, in frustration. Not that Kaliyo can see that. Eyes really are useless for some things.

With a rapid clack-clack of armoured boots on metal floor, Legate was out of the room, around the corner, and walking down the hallway towards the pair.

Clack-clack-clack

"If you would inform us what you need, we're sure-"

Clack-clack-clack

"Oh. Hello, agent."

Legate gave a quick nod to Vector and turned to face Kaliyo. At the same time, he tried to... flicker?... his aura in greeting, and he was pretty sure he succeeded. He'd have to ask Vector later. He thought he saw something, but it might have been wishful thinking.

"Kaliyo," Legate greeted her easily. That had suddenly become a lot easier after Eradication Day. He rubbed an ear and winced exaggeratedly past his headgear. "You called?"

Kaliyo looked unimpressed, but she decided to ignore the sentiment and fire up her holocommunicator. "Take a look at this," she said as energy pulsed into being over the device.

A man's voice, languid and threatening, asked, "where is she?"

Another's, stuttering, unsure, and with the hint of a rasp from a damaged respiratory system, answered. "I-I don't know. How would I know?"

"Kaliyo Djannis and her Twi'lek associate were seen attacking Exchange resources on Nar Shadaa." Not quite accurate, but people did tended to overlook Legate. It was one of his charms. "Should I believe you wouldn't seek revenge? I want her last known location and I want it now!"

Kaliyo turned off the communicator and pocketed it, grinning. "I love it," she said, "listen to that little tremor in his voice. He's adorable."

Legate coughed lightly, clearing his throat and tapping the side of his headgear, right underneath his temple.

Kaliyo gave him a mocking, scandalized look and said, "oh, you know. Average, but pretty bulky, and he had this way of-"

"Ahem," Legate interrupted her in the middle of an exaggerated smacking/thrusting motion, "maybe something I can use when we're taking him by surprise? Before _combat_?"

What was it about Kaliyo that made her think she could use visual taboos to embarrass him? He knew the physical dimensions of every being he met, regardless of what they did to cover up.

On the other hand, holocommunicators.

"Here I thought you were in danger of growing a sense of humour," Kaliyo grumbled. Legate smiled indulgently. Raising her hand to nose height – just above Legate's 'eyes' – she said, "he's a Rattattaki a little shorter than me, skinny sort, pretty easy to throw around if you get in the mood. Tends not to mind too much, either."

"Then you want him dead? Or humiliated, like your Twi'lek friend?"

Kaliyo shrugged. "I don't know. He's kind of sweet, for an arms dealer. Maybe I go back to him for a while, for a change of pace? It's a tough decision, agent."

"Give me a good description and a location, and I could make it an easy decision," Legate offered.

"Ha! I'll think about it. Maybe when he finds us. Until then, maybe I'll let you see the next recording I find."

Legate barely recognized the dismissal. He was busy being distracted by a sequence of flickering and brightening behind him. Vector.

The spy let his mercenary send him away, wandering – silently, this time – towards the room Vector usually holed himself up in.

Closing the door behind him, Legate asked, "you… called?"

Vector's aura dimpled slightly – his version of a smile. "Yes. We have questions… concerning your health, since Taris."

Legate scowled, inspecting himself for parasites too small for the eye to see. At least, he assumed that was the case. Otherwise, Kaliyo was just remarkably understanding of the Killik residents in her skin. He'd had a long conversation with Vector about it when the Joiner had first arrived, and Legate himself, at least, was supposed to be parasite-free.

"Do not worry, agent," Vector said, raising a hand placatingly. "The nest has kept its word. But they have observed your sleeping patterns, and we also grow concerned over your collapse after the mission on Taris. Doctor Lokin claims his readings are unusual, but he admits he doesn't know much about your physiology."

As much as he might appreciate Vector's unique sense of diplomacy, Legate could already feel his programming rebelling against this particular line of questioning.

"Is it Taris?"

Well, he should have expected that.

"We understand the planet was disturbing. The rakghouls are rumoured to be Force-related. We wonder if, perhaps, the exposure to them sickened you," Vector speculated.

Oh, Vector. Legate actually smiled at the Joiner. It was a good guess. With what Vector knew, it was perfectly reasonable. And, in spite of how wrong he was, it was nice to know somebody was concerned. It was an unusual feeling.

"Taris wasn't as bad as you think," Legate replied, knowing he couldn't tell Vector the truth. "There are other things on my mind. Nothing I think could result in what happened yesterday, but..." He trailed off.

Vector waited patiently while Legate decided what to say. He couldn't talk about the brainwashing, couldn't really get what he needed to say off his chest, but Vector would listen in any case. Besides, there was something very important he needed to ask Vector.

"Do you remember after Eradication Day," he finally asked.

Vector nodded. "Vividly. I was grateful for the nest. It helped me reconnect with the song of the universe and come to peace with what we did. I thought at first you had disappeared with Kaliyo to, ah, drown your sorrows. When we were called to return to service, you never mentioned anything of that time. We assumed you preferred not to speak of it."

Of course that was what Vector had thought. Legate had been so willing – desperate, even – to talk to Vector after the event, and then…

"I was called away by Imperial Intelligence." Why was he telling Vector this? "An alien and loyal Imperial who'd fought and captured a member of the Dark Council, they wanted me checked on. Thoroughly. Somehow, over those months, Eradication Day became less real. Maybe it became about Jadus instead of the people… but on Taris, it all came back."

It was all true, but not completely for the reasons Vector thought.

Both men were silent for a time, standing in the hold as the galaxy swirled around them.

Words weren't quite as important to beings who could see in the ways they did.

"Agen-"

"You saw them all die, too," Legate said abruptly, "didn't you? But you never described it."

Vector's aura actually writhed at that.

"I'm sorry," Legate interrupted himself. "I just… before I left, when we talked about what it was like…" Legate struggled to find the words, to find some way of describing what he felt. Finally, he just swore. "oh, Emperor take it!"

Legate undid the clasps on his headgear and threw it to the ground. And unlike any other person in the Empire, Vector didn't flinch or wince when he saw what was underneath. It hurt how much that mattered now, like it never would have before.

Telkwa sat down on one of the crates that lined one of the walls.

"The Empire betrayed us, Vector," he whispered.

Vector looked appalled.

"They ordered the deaths of more than ten thousand of their own by our hands," Telkwa said, easily talking over the Joiner diplomat. "They didn't care about anything but stopping Jadus. That's more than the ends justifying the means, Vector. That's evil. And afterward, they left us. Kaliyo to drown the guilt she claims not to feel, you to seek solace amongst the Killiks, and me… I was alone amongst my own people.

"There's a better justice than this out there, Vector. There has to be."

"Agent," Vector asked, "what are you saying?"

"I'm not talking about joining the Republic," Telkwa assured him. "I suspect they're no better."

He knew they were no better. For exactly the same reason he couldn't say so. He'd figured out easily enough that the brainwashing controlling him was Imperial, but it took no less evil to take advantage of something like that.

"Vector, why do you serve the Empire? What inspired you to join the Diplomatic Service?"

Vector's response was slow and considered. "We believe in the Empire's ideals. It is a disciplined meritocracy; it brings order and peace to the planets under its control."

"And you joined the Diplomatic Service because you wanted to bring these ideals to the galaxy peacefully," Telkwa supplied. The Cipher agent had picked up on that even through a haze of xenophobia back on Alderaan. It was obvious.

Vector nodded. "The Empire is quick-moving and aggressive. This can lead to resistance and violence. We always did our best to limit such things. Under the right circumstances, the Diplomatic Service was a suitable middle ground."

"Do you believe the Empire values that middle ground?"

Vector's aura recoiled.

"Do you believe the Empire values you? Or me?"

Again.

"I expected, after Eradication Day, to be thrown in a prison where I would never see the light of day again, so to speak. But they didn't even care."

Less this time, but Vector's aura didn't reestablish itself quite as strongly, either.

"I'm not saying I can't work for the Empire, Vector, but I can't trust it after this. I don't think you can, either."

Vector looked away. "No," he said, "you are correct. The Empire has made terrible and cruel decisions on our behalf. Our faith in it is not what it once was."

"I want to take a closer look at it," Telkwa said, holding up his recording device. "The Empire, I mean. See what we can fix, what we might be able to change, if we nudge things in a better direction. I haven't said anything to the others, but I wouldn't be surprised if Lokin already knows, and Kaliyo won't care one way or the other. It's you I want on my side with this, Vector. You're the one I trust to know what peace looks like."

Telkwa waited patiently for Vector's answer. He wasn't certain what he would have to do if Vector refused – he had plans if Lokin got in the way, but Vector was by far another matter. And maybe he hadn't been completely honest about how far he planned to go in dealing with the Empire, but Vector would warm to the idea eventually.

He had to.

It took minutes, and Telkwa did nothing but watch the ship in that time. Kaliyo on the holonet doing who knew what, with an ale on the side; Lokin in the med bay, likely working on his Rakghoul research; the droid, cleaning as usual; hyperspace, that bizarre place that was both blinding and empty at the same time. All so that Vector could have the privacy to make his decision in peace.

Eventually, Vector's voice broke the quiet hum of the ship's engines.

"We trust you, agent. We will help you."

Telkwa let his shoulders drop. He slumped forward and buried his face in his hands and let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding.

"Thank you," he whispered through his hands.

Telkwa sighed one more time and stood up. He didn't know what else to say, so he just walked towards the door, picking up his headgear on the way.

He paused at the door and turned back.

"When we're alone," he said, quietly so he knew nobody else might hear, "my name is Telkwa."

Telkwa slid his gear on again.

Legate walked out of the room.


	6. Chapter 6

12 ASC

There was something alive about the Hutta spaceport that Legate rarely saw elsewhere in the galaxy.

...It was all the bacteria. There probably wasn't a filthier place in all the galaxy.

Perfect for scum like the Brentaal anarchists.

Maybe Legate wasn't one to judge. If his grand plans failed, he'd be remembered in the same way these terrorists were, if he was remembered at all.

Nobody needed to know that. He hadn't even told Vector yet. Hopefully, that would come soon. The spy just needed to find the right way to persuade him.

Legate's list of allies was short, and would grow shorter if he didn't play his cards perfectly.

If Kaliyo Djannis, "former" member of the Brentaal anarchists, betrayed him today, that list would be one member shorter no matter what Legate did.

People teemed in the spaceport, and the air was muggy and smelled of swamp and unwashed bodies. In spite of his training and clothing, Legate stuck close to Kaliyo. He might have been trained for places like this – his first mission had been on Hutta – but Kaliyo had grown up amongst it.

Kaliyo grabbed Legate's shoulder as they walked and hissed in his ear, "remember, we're not here to cause trouble. You start something, I get angry."

"If you prefer," Legate offered, "I could watch the proceedings unseen."

Kaliyo seemed to consider it, then shook her head sharply. "no way. After last time, I want to keep an eye on you."

"Maybe if I'd had the good Doctor to tell me the whole hostage situation was a charade," Legate offered, but Kaliyo's dark glare made him interrupt himself. She wasn't going to forgive Lokin for letting slip her meeting today. Not any time soon. He sighed and said, "he's a spy, Kaliyo, an old one. None of us are going to hide anything from him."

And didn't that make Legate's programming do backflips in worry? Let alone his other, personal plans. Between the two, Legate couldn't help but keep Lokin in the back of his mind whenever they were on the ship together.

"If he wants to stay the right side of the airlock," Kaliyo snarled, but this time it was Legate interrupting.

"I repeat, Kaliyo. Old spy. And part Rakghoul. Call me sentimental, but I want you alive to- there they are."

Ahead of them, in what might generously be termed a hangar, stood three men. They sat at a rusty, dirty table, talking. The one called Wheezer was an easy guess, since his lungs were in terrible disrepair and he wore breathing apparatus. How he managed to pack on so much muscle with that sort of condition was anybody's guess. Legate's, personally, was stims. Lots of them.

"Remember, I do the talking," Kaliyo whispered.

Legate nodded with a small smile. Things were probably going to end in a fight anyway, from what he could see of the three men's dispositions, but he'd indulge his partner just the same. Maybe she wouldn't shoot first this time.

Wheezer noticed the pair and stood up with his companions, waving.

"Kaliyo," wheezed Wheezer as they drew close, "of all the gifts you've sent to me, this one is truly the finest. A former Imperial Intelligence agent. How marvelous."

From the spikes Kaliyo let off, her surprise was obvious. Was it because Wheezer had just handed out secret information, or because he'd done something unexpected? It didn't matter. Legate had one hand on his stealth generator already.

Kaliyo caught his movement out of the corner of her eye, and seemed to approve. Probably because he wasn't reaching for his blaster.

Legate killed better in the dark, anyway.

Not that he really knew what dark looked like, but… well, details.

Legate tilted his head towards his rattataki partner. "So, which one of us is getting betrayed this time, then?"

Either Wheezer was betraying Kaliyo, or Kaliyo was betraying Legate. Simple solutions to both.

Wheezer answered before Kaliyo could. Unsurprising. She seemed a little stunned. "Kaliyo has been selling information to the Revolutionary Edge Brigade ever since she joined the Empire."

That was a bit earlier than Legate had expected.

Kaliyo shook her head. "What are you doing?" she demanded.

"Imperial security data, spaceport blueprints, the names of powerful people…" Wheezer took a long, rattling breath. "Useful things. But now she's gone beyond the call of duty."

Kaliyo was still hard to read. Her fear and anger could be because she'd been betrayed, could be because she knew Wheezer was giving the Brigade's plan away too early, and now Legate was going to kill them.

"Kaliyo," Legate warned, "talk fast."

"It's not how he makes it sound," Kaliyo tried to assure him. "This isn't what we agreed!"

Truth. Alright. Everybody else died, then. If Kaliyo couldn't save their lives.

Legate didn't care one way or the other for these anarchists.

He was such a hypocrite.

Kaliyo tried to approach her old mentor, but the two thugs with him cut her off.

"Why bother keeping it private," Wheezer asked, "when your associate dies anyway?"

Kaliyo flared, and Wheezer continued, unaware. "He's more useful dead than alive. His hands and eyes can get us through biometric security scans."

"Shows what you know," Legate laughed darkly, "I don't have eyes."

"This isn't a harvest job!" Kaliyo yelled.

"Then I apologize for misreading our agreement… but this is too promising an opportunity to pass up."

"Last chance to save your friends," Legate warned Kaliyo, who was looking between the three dead men desperately.

"Wheezer," Kaliyo almost begged, "don't do this. Walk away and I can get him to let you live, I swear."

"Kaliyo," Wheezer said fondly, "after today, the Revolutionary Edge Brigade can become what it was always meant to be. All thanks to you."

"Damn you, Wheezer!"

Kaliyo knew exactly what Legate was going to do. If she wanted to stop him, she had a split second where he would have had no options. As she drew her pistol, he wondered what would happen.

He needn't have worried.

She slammed her pistol into the collarbone of one of the thugs at the same instant Legate moved.

Legate had his headgear's aural dampeners. Kaliyo was half-deaf from growing up around too many explosives, and knew exactly when to duck and cover her eyes. Wheezer?

Wheezer and his friends took the full brunt of an imperial-issue flashbang grenade, a weapon that emitted enough light that even Legate could see it. After a fashion.

Kaliyo moved as fast as Legate did. She shot the second goon, turned and killed one approaching from the spaceport, then executed the one whose collarbone she'd fractured.

Legate moved around behind the biggest target, just as Kaliyo knew he would. Wheezer froze as an envenomed blade pressed cold against his throat. After a few seconds, he managed to regain enough of his sight to see the corpses of his men on the ground.

He had the gall to look at Kaliyo and shake his head a fraction.

"I'm disappointed in you, Kaliyo," he said. "You never were a believer, but siding with the Empire?"

Kaliyo pointed her pistol at the two men. "I didn't want to pick a side," she snapped. Then she fired, twice, into Wheezer's chest. The big man slipped out of Legate's arms.

Legate didn't holster his blade. He didn't turn to face Kaliyo. She knew where she stood with him now.

Still, she tried to wave it off.

"So yeah," she said defensively, "I sold him a few secrets. He paid better than you do, and-"

She cut off as Legate started laughing. It started out low and soft, but he just kept laughing, and Kaliyo's incredulous expression only made it harder to stop. He didn't stop until he'd been forced to sit down on the table just to keep upright.

Finally, Kaliyo exploded.

"WHAT?"

Legate held up a finger as he tried to stifle the last of his giggles. Finally, through sheer force of will, he managed to say, "I don't even have eyes."

Then he burst into giggles again.

After a few seconds, he asked, "you never told him anything about me, did you?"

Kaliyo looked stunned. "You aren't going to ask about-"

"-selling information?" Legate asked, still facing away from the rattattaki, "Kaliyo, it took me almost two months to figure out when you were lying because I'd never seen you tell the truth. How much would you really respect me if I trusted you?"

Kaliyo huffed.

"I suppose I underestimated you," Legate admitted. "They had no idea what I am. So I suppose I've come to a decision."

Kaliyo's eyes widened. She started to back away, eyes on Legates ever-deft hands. "Look, agent," she said, raising a hand and her blaster, "I didn't talk about the missions-"

"Kaliyo," Legate cut her off sharply. She almost shot him out of nerves. "Don't you think I know what would have happened here if you'd gone the other way? I don't care about the leaks. Just let me say a few things, will you?"

Kaliyo shut up and lowered her blaster, but she glared at Legate anyway. He wasn't facing her, but he saw, regardless.

She'd listen, but she was angry. The mercenary hated being afraid.

Legate nodded and raised a hand with one finger up. "Right," he said, "first off, the Empire and I are on less than cordial terms these days. Don't ask for details. You remember those notes I've been taking?"

Kaliyo nodded, an eyebrow raised. "Sure. Your version of paperwork, except it's been all about Sith lately."

"With a few moffs and a Republic senator or two," Legate corrected. "I'm sure you haven't wondered why I'd be doing that."

"None of my business," Kaliyo said, crossing her arms.

"Liar," Legate laughed. "They're target lists. I've been picking out who to eliminate and who to get into power."

"What?!"

Legate swiped his hand to cut her off. "Like I said, a grudge. For now, don't ask. What I need to know is, will you help me?"

There was a moment of silence, and Kaliyo's confusion couldn't have been more obvious if she'd written it down. Well, obvious to most people.

"Help you," Kaliyo said cautiously, "with what?"

"Sabotaging the Empire," Legate said smoothly, "and the Republic."

Kaliyo snorted. "You're joking."

There was a beat of silence.

"You're not joking."

Legate shook his head.

"What the… agent, look, you're good. I'm good. We're great. But what you're talking about is beyond anything the Brentaals ever imagined. We can't-"

"Kaliyo," Legate interrupted, "do you trust me?"

Kaliyo physically recoiled. Tellingly, however, her force signature didn't pull away as much.

Legate chuckled. "I'll take that as, 'I didn't tell them about your eyes,' then. Good. All you need to know now is that I have a way. I just need to know I have your support."

Kaliyo didn't respond.

"There will be plenty to blow up," Legate offered with a grin the mercenary couldn't see.

Kaliyo huffed again. They both knew that was a lie. It wasn't the way Legate operated. The point had more to do with the way Legate had said it.

An offer to a friend.

"Well," Legate shrugged, "if that doesn't grab you-"

"Yes, fine, whatever," Kaliyo snapped. "I'll help you. But you'll be paying me double the crap the Empire's been throwing me."

Legate spun on the table, armour scratching, and vaulted off of it. He walked right past Kaliyo, back towards the spaceport.

"Excellent," he said. "Now, I've been meaning to get your opinion on a Sith called Lord Kallig..."


	7. Chapter 7

12 ASC

"There are two hundred missiles in the Shadow Arsenal. Only takes one to destroy Kaas City. Threat alone should make the Sith surrender."

Some tiny part of Legate's mind ran calculations and asked questions. It tried to figure out how much time he had before his new treatment of serum overrode the brainwashing the Empire had inflicted on him. It estimated the damage two hundred bombings on the scale of Kaas city could do. It checked the risk of moving now, even with his programming, to take the Shadow Arsenal out of play, and weighed his life against the lives of everyone who might be lost if it were used. A small part, running the numbers of every risk he'd just been faced with.

The larger part made him cry out, "that's insane! What happens if they don't surrender? I won't be responsible for another Eradication Day!"

That tiny part of Legate's mind cursed his instinct.

He cast about for Vector. A single flicker of his aura and the Joiner would come running, even from his position circling the compound.

Maybe he should call in Lokin and Kaliyo. If they could make it in time.

At this point, he'd even settle for Ensign Temple as reinforcement.

"Legate, that's exactly what we want to prevent." Ardun Kothe's voice crackled over the holocom. Legate wished he could see the man's face. "If we have the Shadow Arsenal, we should only have to use it once to force the Empire into admitting defeat. If not… well, we'll have to fight."

"I can understand fighting," Legate said, trying to recover his blunder. "I'll kill whoever you need, get whatever information will end this war, but I can't – Kothe, promise me you won't use these unless you have to."

"I'm sorry, Legate," was Kothe's answer, and however sincere it may have sounded, the words came from the mouth of a monster. "If the Empire forces our hand, we may have no choice. This is war, and I intend to ensure the Republic wins."

The Jedi didn't know it, but he'd signed his own death warrant with those words. Legate promised himself, silently promised Kothe, that the Jedi and his entire team would die before the Arsenal was ever used.

In an instant, Kothe switched back to briefing mode. He dismissed Legate's concerns like the nattering of a naive child.

"The missiles are still inside the old manufacturing complex – two square kilometers of factories and tunnels."

"Sealed up but still intact," Hunter chimed in with that oddly masculine voice. It was much less unsettling when Hunter was far enough away not to see. "The scientists couldn't bear to destroy their work, so they built defenses fifty years ahead of Republic standard."

"We're going to secure the facility," Kothe told them. "I'll bring in the shuttle and locate the Shadow Arsenal."

"Saber," Hunter said, "take out the main batteries. Wheel, see what you can do with the main computer."

"Affirmative," Wheel responded.

"Legate," Hunter continued, "you'll penetrate the structure at these coordinates. Bypass the droids and lower the facility shields so our shuttle can land."

"Kothe," Legate said, "with my abilities, I'd be better suited to finding the Arsenal itself. The sightlines-"

"Denied, Legate," Kothe interrupted. "We don't have anyone else in position to take out the shields."

"Vector Hyllis is more than-"

"Let me, sir," Hunter interrupted. "Keyword: onomatophobia. You will lower the shields. And the Shadow Arsenal will be ours."

"What was that?" Saber's voice.

"Affirmative," was the only thing Legate could say. Internally, he cursed Hunter's paranoia.

"Hunter, you didn't have to-"

"Cut the chatter, Saber," Kothe snapped. "Hunter did what needed to be done. We'll apologize when the war's over. Now do your duty. For the Republic."

The commlink cut out.

Legate flickered his aura and waited.

It took less than a minute for Vector to show up, and Legate's mind raced through options each second. In truth, he had none. Every decision that might save the hundreds of millions of lives Kothe was threatening required Legate to act against his programming. As hard as the miralukan tried, he couldn't do that. The new serum hadn't run its course yet, though he was nearing the thirty-day maximum.

What was the point of riding the edge of his programming for so long if he couldn't fix things when they mattered?

When Vector arrived, Legate almost ordered him to go on alone in search of the Arsenal. Except he couldn't. Even if his programming didn't specify the Republic taking the missiles, it was obvious what would happen if Vector went in alone.

If Legate sent Vector away, Hunter would send Legate after Vector. The Joiner was an excellent fighter, he might be able to take Saber, Wheel, or even Hunter out of the story, but there was still Kothe… And, worse, Legate himself.

Legate didn't want to think about being forced to kill his…

Friend…

Instead, the two of them went in together, sneaking past cutting-edge droids as easily as walking down a hallway.

There was dead silence when Vector and Legate entered the control room. Two well-placed daggers and some quick, pheremone-enhanced attacks on Vector's part, and the room was clear of the defending droids.

Legate took a breath before keying his comm. His attention settled on the man he'd brought with him. If Vector saw Hunter give Legate his keyword, the Joiner would be killed. And Hunter would use the keyword. The wretch reveled in his power.

"Vector, I have this," Legate said softly. "Go get a good vantage point. Ensure no droids come near."

Vector hesitated. "Ag- Telkwa. Something is wrong, we can tell."

"Yes," Legate admitted. "But nothing you can help. Please. Leave while I do this."

Vector nodded. "We will come at your call, Telkwa."

Legate turned towards the computer terminal and pretended he didn't feel the stab of pain from those words.

Vector knew Legate couldn't be sneaked up on. He knew Legate sent him away every time the spy was about to receive orders. Vector knew sometimes, afterward, he saw Legate doing things his aura opposed. Vector just didn't know why.

Legate inspected the terminal. Instinctively, his mind traced the pathways of the wires, trying to categorize what each button, lever, and dial did. Such habits were necessary when most writing looked exactly like the rest of everything it was written on. Once, Legate had successfully rewired a control terminal to the point that one of his instructors simulated blowing himself up.

He was distracting himself, and his programming wouldn't allow that.

He pressed two buttons and turned a dial. That simple. The shields were open, Kothe's ship could enter the base, and Legate had just spent the future of the galaxy because he couldn't beat a few chemicals in his brain.

"This is Legate," he monotoned into his comms, "shields are down. The shuttle's clear to land."

"And Saber did her part," Kothe said. "We'll have the Shadow Arsenal on board and headed for Republic space within the hour."

And headed back for Imperial space the easy way within days.

"You're going to hold position here. Protect the controls until we're gone."

"With all due respect, sir," Legate protested, "my skills lend themselves to infiltration and espionage. It would be more efficient for me to sabotage the controls and join you."

"I'm not willing to take the chance," Kothe said. "Legate… this is goodbye for now. Go back to Imperial Intelligence, shore up your contacts. We'll be in touch in a few months."

After the war was over or had escalated to the point there'd be nothing Legate could do. Before he could say anything else, though, Kothe gave one last command.

"Hold position. Keyword: onomatophobia. And thank you."

Legate almost roared in rage as the commlink clicked off. He was out of time! Everything he'd done, all the time he'd spent searching for a way to undo his programming, all the work managing both sides of his life as a double agent, it was about to come to nothing, all because his mind was too weak!

There had to be a way. Some way to force it, no matter the repercussions.

"Vector!"

Legate couldn't say why he called for his friend instead of signaling him, but he did. And Vector came, as he always did.

"Are we moving out, agent?"

Legate shook his head and said, "I need you to protect me. If anything happens- just... Be ready for anything."

He wasn't able to explain anything, so he knelt, then sat, placing his rifle across his lap. It was comforting there. Then he reached up, drew back his hood, and unclasped his headgear.

"Telkwa," Vector said softly, but the spy - the miralukan - ignored him.

What he was about to do went against every bit of Imperial teaching he'd ever absorbed. Before today, he'd made the decision to work against the Empire, even decided to join the Republic, however briefly. But, in his heart, he'd still never stopped being Imperial.

Telkwa prayed to the Emperor this wasn't as stupid an idea as it felt like.

He breathed deep, and did as his father had taught him. Telkwa focused on what he could see, on the Force, on how it welled from the living and flowed through the world and bound everything together.

Then he drew himself inward, cutting himself off from everything.

There was no galaxy, no world, no room; there was only himself. There were no bonds, no Kaliyo or family or… or Vector… Only himself. There was no life, or death. Nothing to protect or fear. There was only himself.

There was no self. There was only the Force.

A being of the Force looked upon a shackled mind from both outside and within.

The body of Imperial Agent Telkwa Thema told Vector about the Shadow Arsenal. The being observing his mind noted the way the Force flowed. Then Telkwa tried to speak of his programming, and again the being observed. For precious minutes, Telkwa acted and attempted to act, and Telkwa's mind was observed. Both Telkwa and observer spent those minutes figuring out how to force the reprogramming, how the work the new serum had done might be enough.

Then...

"Vector," said Telkwa's body, "We are going to have to move fast. I ask you to trust me, because the galaxy depends on it, and because I will not have time to explain what is about to happen."

Then the being pushed. Pushed as hard as it possibly could, and the body followed its motions through the Force, thinking the words that needed to be said. The Force shifted, ever so slightly, and the body pushed more strongly. It only needed a little leeway, a slight adjustment, a fraction of freedom.

And then, it had it.

Telkwa's body spoke the words, "thesh protocol, phase one. New keyword: iconoclasm."

"Keyword accepted," responded the being, playing the part it needed to. "Thesh protocol engaged."

The being made two decisions, as quickly as any it had ever made.

Telkwa Thema needed a trump card.

"Designate limit break command, keyword: iconoclasm. Accept command from no outside source."

And he needed a check.

"Designate shutdown command, keyword: conciliation. Accept command… only from Vector Hyllis. Accept no further commands."

"Command interface closed," answered the being.

"Revert to phase zero."

The being and Telkwa's body merged once more, and Telkwa's consciousness expanded so quickly he almost lost consciousness.

A light pulled him out of near black-out, and he heard Vector's voice, concerned, asking, "Telkwa? You disappeared for a moment. Are you alright?"

Telkwa nodded, replaced his headgear and hood, and stood shakily.

"We have to move, Vector. Fast."

He ran, stumbling at first and then faster, as fast as he'd ever forced himself to run. Vector was right behind him, as Telkwa knew he would be. Stealth field generators went active as they hit the ground below their balcony, rolling with practiced ease to lessen the burden on the devices and their bodies. Then they were off, no slower for the necessity of stealth, past droids with weapons that could kill either of them with a single lucky shot, through a base that was more maze than bunker, and towards the Shadow Arsenal with only Telkwa's senses for guidance.

Telkwa could feel Vector's questions burning, but the Joiner spoke not a word, nor made a single sound, as the two wove their way across the base.

When they came upon Wheel and Saber defending the entrance to the Shadow Arsenal, Telkwa barely kept himself from whispering a quiet regret. Then he hacked several of the droids in the area and walked past with Vector. He didn't ignore Saber's screams when the droids finally surrounded the two Republic agents, but he hadn't had a choice.

This was about millions. Her life, and the life of her droid companion, were nothing.

Telkwa's aura wavered as they approached the Arsenal itself. A simple command to Vector: combat pheromones. Vector would be faster, stronger, more able to react to any combat situation. It even affected Telkwa, though Vector assured the spy he was nowhere near becoming a Joiner, nor at any risk.

Kothe shone just as brightly as Vector did, though he radiated his power where Telkwa's friend kept it all inside. For Kothe, it was the light of the power of the Force, concentrated in one being. It was the flowing Force in Kothe, not that created by life, as it was for Vector. That made one a conduit and the other a font. So simple, and yet Telkwa had never allowed himself to pay enough attention to make the distinction before.

"Just like Jaedus," Telkwa whispered as he deactivated his stealth generator and walked towards Kothe.

 _Locking mechanism disengaged,_ intoned a mechanical voice.

Kothe, standing just outside a room housing hundreds of missiles, almost smiled as the room's shields went down and its defense turrets deactivated.

At least Vector would know exactly what to hack this time. No need for a Watcher in his ear every step of the way.

Kothe didn't turn around as Telkwa approached. Like any Force-sensitive, he didn't need to. "Legate," he said with a little surprise, "I thought I felt you. You're supposed to be back at the shields- I see. You're free, aren't you?"

Telkwa nodded as Kothe turned around. Both men's hands rested on their weapons. Telkwa's on his rifle, Kothe's on a lightsaber hidden within his coat.

"It didn't have to come to this," Telkwa told him. "Even after the brainwashing, I was willing to give you a chance."

Kothe nodded. "I'm sorry to hear that. I suppose you understand. An Imperial Intelligence defector, just when I needed one. I couldn't risk it being a lie."

"You were supposed to be better than that," Telkwa spat. His hand clenched on his rifle, and he had to focus to keep his touch light and ready. "It doesn't matter. You're not the first Jedi I've seen go mad with power. Certainly not the first Force-user."

Kothe raised an eyebrow. "So," he said, drawing and igniting his lightsaber, "you knew."

Telkwa's left hand came up and tapped the side of his headgear. He gave a silent smirk, and then his face settled into a mask of disappointment. "It didn't matter to me," he admitted. "I've seen the colours of evil on both sides of this war. I just wanted to be on the side that would actually balk at genocide. I should have known. The Empire had its Eradication Day and Desolator, the Republic lost Hammer Station and let a mad Jedi take control of the most powerful factory in the galaxy. I thought it was just neglect."

He raised his blaster, and Kothe held his lightsaber firm. "I was wrong," Telkwa concluded. "None of you care about the lives lost, as long as they're enemy lives. Keyword: iconoclasm."

"Wha-"

Kothe was cut off as Telkwa weaved around his lightsaber at superhuman speed, slamming a powerful kick into the jedi's chest and sending him tumbling backwards into the Arsenal's armoury.

"Vector!" the spy yelled.

The shields on the room activated again, and Kothe slashed at the door in vain. As alarms sounded, the Arsenal's defensive turrets reactivated and took aim.

Kothe lowered his lightsaber. His entire being hardened with resolve. Perhaps a part of Telkwa respected that, even wished his own convictions were so strong.

But as the turrets fired and reduced the man's body to smouldering char, Telkwa couldn't help but be grateful such a monster wasn't still with the galaxy.

Now, there was a much shorter, simpler list of tasks left to him. At least for the immediate future. Destroy the Shadow Arsenal. Explain everything to Vector. Figure out how to get Lokin on-side without getting killed.

Answer his ringing holocomm, and tell Hunter exactly what he thought about onomatophobia.

That particular conversation did not go the way Telkwa expected.


	8. Chapter 8

12 ASC

"The Great Hyperspace War was a turning point for civilization. For the first time, the galaxy itself was imperiled, and every living being put at risk. History nearly ended. And why? Because the Jedi and the Sith – ordinary people with extraordinary might – went too far, and there was nothing anyone could do to stop them.

"We cannot change the nature of ordinary people. But we can control them. We have assembled the best men and women of our generation, individuals with the power and the will to effect change. Some of you see yourselves as rivals elsewhere, but here we are partners. Our goal is not to conquer or to punish, but to preserve civilization as we know it. We will work in secret, so that no one may fear us. We will conceal the Sith from the Jedi, and the Jedi from the Sith so long as we can, and we will let them command the world that they see. But they will see only what we let them see."

Both Kaliyo and Telkwa, in his own way, stared at Vector. He looked up from the document he was reading from, a subdued and dark film cast over his aura.

"Wow," Kaliyo blurted out, genuinely impressed. "Well, you can't really argue, can you? The Sith just dragged the Empire into their vendetta. None of our business, but it's not like they care."

Vector put the datapad down on a computer encased in stonework, though he probably couldn't see the intricate electronics underneath. The entire room was stonework, jutting from the floors and ceiling in simple, repetitive patterns. All of that stonework covered computer electronics, hooked into the computer terminal in the center, the stasis tanks on the walls, the lights and air control, the holographic project, the droid construction machinery below their feet. Eventually, all of the wiring shot off into the rest of Belsavis.

A path for Scorpio to control everything in the prison.

"You come dangerously close to blaspheming the Emperor," Vector said softly, not looking up from the writings. He didn't disagree with Kaliyo, though. He and Telkwa had had far too many conversations about exactly this for him to disagree.

Kaliyo snorted. "Like I care," she muttered. The rattataki pushed off the stone wall and started wandering the tomb.

Well, it wasn't exactly a tomb. It was a prison where they held people in a state of stasis for centuries, floating in kolto tanks with perfectly preserved their life and allowed no real interaction with anything, including the surrounding Force. So, in Telkwa's mind, effectively a tomb.

Kaliyo kicked at the machine that had protected this area, the remains of the droid the Scorpio program had built itself to fight them. "Seems to me they had the right idea. Keep the big shots from finding each other, keep the power with the normal people."

"Except," Telkwa cut in, "the normal people have proven they can't be trusted with the power, either."

The spy walked over to the tank filled with kolto and a single living human.

Kaliyo barked a laugh. "That's why you're taking all that power yourself, isn't it, agent?"

Telkwa put a hand to the tank, imagining he could feel the Force within the man floating inside. The man who wasn't even alive, as far as the rest of the universe was concerned. No Force flowed into him, no Force flowed out. All bound up inside a single, insignificant shell. Not a single bond to any other being.

"That is not what he is doing, Kaliyo," Vector spoke up, finally looking up from the datapad and turning to face her. "That power is not for any of us. The fate of worlds should be beyond us."

"Says the man who handed worlds to the Empire on a silver platter," Kaliyo sneered.

She was just trying to start a fight, so Telkwa cut in.

"Says the Joiner." Telkwa spoke softly. If it weren't for Vector's softspoken nature, the spy would never have been heard. In this case, because it was Vector, Telkwa actually overrode his response. "It's a bizarre way of thinking, Kaliyo. His thoughts mingle with the entire colony. Many minds as one. As a Joiner, and especially as Dawn Herald, he understands how the individual thinks better than any Killik. Just as much, he understands the group in a way you can't imagine. He knows what he's talking about, when he's talking about the individual's responsibility to the whole."

"Preachy, much," Kaliyo muttered. Her aura didn't shrink or harden, though, so she'd listened and understood, even if she didn't agree.

"Never underestimate a man coming to his friend's defense," Telkwa laughed. It was a subdued laugh. He couldn't take his attention away from the people in the tanks.

He'd been doing the same thing to people across the galaxy already. Not their bodies, like the Star Cabal had done to these people, but their minds, like the Empire had done to him. Because of it, he had power and influence now. Because of it, he stayed up at night with thoughts of when he'd been a victim of the IX serum himself. Visions of beating against the walls of his mind, trying to tell Vector about his prison, begging to be saved.

At least he'd chosen his targets well. Nobody who didn't deserve to be locked up, one way or another.

"Speaking of which," Telkwa said, turning around to face his friends with some effort.

Friends. He hadn't meant to think that. Maybe he liked Kaliyo more than he admitted.

At least she was predictable. A compulsive liar, but predictable in her own way.

"I'm going to need your help," he said, looking back and forth between the two of them. Meeting their gazes, after a fashion. "Convincing Lokin and Temple isn't going to be easy. I don't even know if it'll be possible. And I think Lokin's on to us."

Vector's aura spiked, hard. "Agent-" he began, only to be cut off Kaliyo.

"So why hasn't the old monster eaten us in our sleep?" she asked. She shuddered and ground her foot into the Scorpio droid's face to make herself feel better.

Telkwa sighed. "I think he's interested. I gave him Lord Kallig's file a couple weeks ago, and he's been quiet ever since."

Kaliyo's aura brightened just around her shoulders. Amusement, shock. He'd gotten good at reading that sort of thing. She whistled. "You gave him that nutjob's file? I bet he's having loads of fun with that. Those two were made for each other. I bet she's his long-lost daughter or something."

"She's a twi'lek."

Kaliyo shrugged. "Bet he's a freaky old monster."

Vector cleared his throat quietly, pulling their attention away from banter. Once he was sure he had their attention, he spoke. "The doctor is a worrying prospect, but we are concerned about miss Temple. She-"

"She doesn't really matter," Kaliyo snorted. "It's not like she can do anything to keep us from getting to Hunter or whatever else you're up to with this plan."

Telkwa almost spoke up, almost told Kaliyo that the plan she spoke of so flippantly could be ruined by a single naive girl sending a single errant message. Almost, but he saw Vector shift, ready to speak.

"Miss Temple is an innocent in this," Vector said, and Telkwa felt instant guilt. He hadn't even thought of Raina Temple as a potential victim. "She is unlikely to be safe if we send her away, and we doubt she would be convinced to free the worlds of the Empire. What, then, do you suggest?"

Telkwa almost, almost let himself complete a thought involving the IX serum. The resulting flash of guilt was probably visible to every Jedi and Sith on Belsavis.

Kaliyo shrugged and opened her mouth to speak, but Telkwa cut her off.

"We're not going to kill her."

Kaliyo's aura rumbled with spikes, all directed at him. Then it smoothed and rippled in amusement, giving that same shine around her shoulders as always. "What do you take me for?" she asked, grinning. "I'm just saying we lie to her."

"Lie," Telkwa repeated. "About toppling two and a half interplanetary governments, to a person on board the same ship, with a Joiner incapable of lying in close proximity to both the conspiracy and our young Raina? No offense, Vector."

"None taken," Vector assured him, with his own, brighter, ripple of amusement. "We have, after all, been insulted by professionals."

Kaliyo shrugged. "Well, then we just don't let Vector talk to her."

"We enjoy Ensign Temple's company."

"You would."

Telkwa raised his hand and gave a small flare of his aura, something he'd been practicing and teaching Ensign Temple. Kaliyo felt it, even if she didn't know what it was, and she and Vector went silent at the outburst.

"I doubt we're going to just come up with solutions for either of them," Telkwa put in. He pointed to the droid parts Kaliyo was practically standing on. "Let's get that reprogrammed and fixed up. At least we can keep busy while we talk in circles."

"Don't look at me," Kaliyo muttered, stepping away with one last kick to Scorpio's chassis. "I don't build droids."

"No," Telkwa agreed, "but you're not bad with weapons. I only need the head. You take the rest and look for anything we don't want it to have when we wake it up. You can keep anything you find."

Not that she'd do the job better than he could. She had to pull it apart to find the weapons; he could see the insides and make out all the little devices within. Still, it would keep her busy and relatively satisfied.

"Vector," Telkwa pointed towards the back of the room, past the stasis tanks, security apparatus, and manufacturing machinery. "There's a computer terminal towards the back of the prison. I doubt there's anything on it we can use, but I don't want the droid doing something to any important information we might need when it wakes up."

Vector nodded and walked off without a word, leaving spy and mercenary to pick apart the droid.

It was quiet work for Telkwa. Not so much for Kaliyo, of course, who kept up a constant stream of stories, comments, and complaints as she worked. Telkwa did his best to pretend he wasn't ignoring her, and she happily pretended she didn't know he was ignoring her. Overall, a pleasant working relationship.

Not that she'd normally let him ignore her. They just both had other things on their minds, and Kaliyo thought best while talking.

The droid's programming was complex, to say the least. That made sense. It was, as far as he could tell, fully sentient. Finding the right paths, the right wires to cut or cross or create, it was… well, it was like doing the work of the IX serum on a machine. It wasn't really like reprogramming a machine, because machines didn't evolve. Instead, he actually had to prepare for the eventuality that Scorpio would circumvent his restrictions, and build restrictions both as backup and to prevent that circumvention.

He was almost an hour into the work when Vector's voice cut into his thoughts.

"It occurs to us, perhaps belatedly, that we never considered simply telling Ensign Temple the truth."

Kaliyo snorted, but Telkwa took some of his focus from the machinery in his hands. "What truth, exactly?" he asked.

If that question wasn't a perfect indicator of his life…

Vector took it in stride, though. His voice carried across the room from where he tapped away at the prison chamber's computer, "about what happened to you, and to us. Your experience with Eradication Day, Darth Zhorrid, and the IX serum. Our own experience with the Diplomatic Service and the so-called Joiner Experiment. Surely that would be enough to convince her that our path is necessary."

Telkwa gave off a wavering pulse in the equivalent of shaking his head. "No," he said, "she'd never believe us. Somebody like Temple might not even take proof at face value."

There was a reason he was sure of that, he just couldn't put his finger on it – some reason that Temple would remain loyal to the Empire, regardless of any proof. A reason she was loyal in spite of being terrified of her Force sensitivity being discovered, or knowing her parents had disobeyed the Empire to protect her…

"Are you that used to pure obedience," Telkwa whispered to himself. "Yes, I am, and I don't think that's a bad thing..."

"Uh, agent," Kaliyo peered at him over a dismembered arm, "what are you muttering?"

"How many conversations have you had with Raina about the Empire, Kaliyo?"

Kaliyo shrugged, scratching away at a blaster barrel inside of the Scorpio unit's arm. "I dunno. Not many. She always gets all preachy. More fun to talk about crime bosses and old heists and whatever. Why?"

Telkwa raised his voice slightly. "And what about you, Vector?"

"We've had several pleasant conversations with the Ensign regarding the Empire."

"And how much nuance have you gone into with her? Kaliyo, have you ever discussed the Empire's policies with her?"

Kaliyo put down the arm. Her aura flickered with curiosity. "What, like the Sith, the anti-alien policies, or that one stupid law against vandalizing the monument in Kaas City?"

"About on the scale of the second," Telkwa tried. "How does it feel like she usually reacts?"

"Well," Kaliyo said slowly, giving it a little thought, "I suppose she agrees with me once in a while. Always thought it was pretty hypocritical. So what?"

"We noticed that, as well," Vector chimed in. "Ensign Temple is rarely enthused over the particulars of Imperial policies… is that significant?"

"Maybe," Telkwa murmured, focusing closely on the Scorpio head, picturing the droid reprogrammed to never harm him or his allies, to never work against him or spread his secrets. Also picturing the droid's anger at its slavery. Unamused by him, unwilling to go out of its way to help, but never able to work against him.

With a little work, he could make it agree with him, work with him, even like him. Even so, there was no way to track down every detail of its programming. There would be rebellious aspects, fits of contention, because he couldn't program for every eventuality and also ensure that the broader strokes were properly taken care of.

Just like so many of the mind control techniques the Empire had.

"Maybe," Telkwa repeated to himself.


	9. Chapter 9

13 ASC

"We never served on Voss personally. It's a newly discovered world, home to a simple, humanoid civilization. One species, one government, one city – Voss-ka."

"Primitive," Watcher Three interrupted Vector. It was a mystery whether the hint of distaste in his voice was due to discussing an alien species or conversing with one. "They didn't even have spaceflight when we made first contact."

Vector, naturally, leapt to the defense of the people of Voss. "But they have art and law and culture. More importantly, they have citizens who can use the Force – not Jedi or Sith, but something different."

"Wait, wait a second." Cipher Nine held up his hands before the pair could continue. This was too important to simply gloss over. "Back up. How did they develop the Force? How do they use it, if they're not Jedi or Sith?"

Vector's aura rippled in a satisfied sort of way. "The Mystics of Voss are seers and healers. They guide the people of Voss in everything they do. The Mystics are quite effective – the Empire's initial attempts to conquer the planet were handily rebuffed, in spite of the Voss's 'primitive' society."

Healers and seers? Seers capable of defeating the Empire with their predictions? If the Voss healing were anything like that, then maybe…

An image of Keeper – once Watcher Two – flitted through Cipher Nine's mind. Aura frozen, then shattered, then still. She was still there, somewhere inside her own body, trapped.

And Raina Temple, as well. A girl so trusting and naive that she'd latched onto Cipher Nine like a pet in her first months aboard, even making questing remarks about a potential relationship. Poor Temple, who Cipher Nine suspected more and more was limited in her thinking by Imperial mental blocks.

It was time to investigate. There was always a chance, just a chance, that he'd found a way to help two people who desperately needed it.

Cipher Nine was fidgety around the not-Voss, Bas-Ton. He could tell Vector's skin crawled just the same way. It was an unnatural thing that had been done to the Imperial infiltrator, sculpting him into something he was not. A human given compound eyes and molded flesh, but without the rhythm of the Voss people all around him. And the way his aura rebelled against his flesh… Cipher Nine had seen it before, once or twice, but never in such a drastic fashion. Not across species.

So, Cipher Nine felt he could be forgiven for drifting in and out of the conversation with his informant. It took Vector replying to something the not-Voss had said to bring the spy back to reality.

"Does something trouble you?"

Bas-Ton shook his head, and his aura – Emperor only knew what his aura was doing, writhing inside his body. This man was impossible to read. Worse than Hunter by far. "The Mystics have a whole library of prophecies. The rest of the Voss revere the Mystics because the prophecies are always right. If the Mystics prophesied the Shining Man's arrival, it would explain why the Voss accepted him so easily. It's awfully convenient, though."

The Mystics again.

"How do the Mystics operate, exactly?" Cipher Nine asked. "They're fortune-tellers? Government advisors…?"

"Influential as the Dark Council, reclusive as the Jedi Masters," Bas-Ton muttered, then moved on in an instant. "About the second part, though: made whole in the Wellspring of the Shrine… The Shrine of Healing is a Mystic sanctuary where people go to be cured; the sick and dying, or the spiritually wounded."

At that point, Cipher Nine completely tuned out of the conversation. Vector continued it, to some degree, getting a detail or two about the journey to the Shrine of Healing, how they might gain an audience with the Mystics, but the miralukan man didn't care. Not about simple logistics.

No, what mattered now was the chance he'd just been presented. His intuition had been spot-on. The Voss were healers – great ones, if Bas-Ton were to be believed. If they were capable of healing the spiritually wounded…

The moment the conversation ended, Cipher Nine put in a call to the ship.

"Kaliyo," he said as the mercenary answered the call. "We may have a solution to the Ensign's problem. I need her to meet us, and you're the best to keep an eye on her. As for the good doctor, make sure he doesn't let Scorpio do anything we can't predict. Please."

There was the usual grumbling, a bit of swearing, and Kalliyo eventually acquiesced. She often did.

When had Cipher Nine come to rely on the rattataki liar?

That got an unconscious shrug from the spy. Something to deal with later. For now, he traded a smile for some of the Ton family's tea, and went on his way. Young Yana-Ton was very accommodating of him, especially for a girl with such an alien father.

Cipher Nine exchanged glances with Kaliyo and Vector as they approached the room. Well, sort of exchanged glances. Sort of a room. Vector and Kaliyo got the gist, though, and Ensign Temple walked blithely on. It was almost cute.

Vector and Kaliyo thought differently.

Now, Kaliyo said silently, we can find out what's going on with her.

It is nothing more than a checkup, Vector was thinking. A medical procedure just like any other, and safer than most.

The miralukan knew all that. It was simple stuff. Trick a subordinate into getting herself treatment for a problem she didn't know she had. It unsettled him, though. Raina trusted him, and this place…

Glow, everywere, all around, from the vaulted ceilings to the wide rampways and within the stoneworked walls. All aglow with a light that was a… colour… Cipher Nine had never seen before.

He ran through the colours he'd assigned to various groups in his head.

Most people were white, the colour of cloud and fog – not formless, but prone to changing into an unimaginable variety of shapes, and without a grand direction. Just moving along as the world willed them.

Vector was black, like space or night; deep and impossible to see to the ends of. Like all killiks, he seemed all-encompassing even though he was also right in front of you.

The Sith were red, the colour of fire and blood and the skin of the Sith themselves. It was perfect for them, since it represented destruction, often wild or tragic.

The Jedi, those few he'd seen, he called green. The colour of harmless plants; it represented growth and life, but also a certain ineffectualness. An inability to defend what was theirs.

The Voss were so different. Cipher Nine had never seen a Jedi Temple, but he imagined it was like this place, which was a lot like the Sith Sanctum on Dromuund Kaas – suffused with the power of centuries of Force-users, it seemed alive all its own.

And the colour of it, that thing beyond the movement or shape or texture of the Force here, or even beyond the combination of those things, it was…

Blue.

He supposed he should have seen that coming. That really left only yellow left, of the "main" colours.

Blue, the colour of the ocean and sky. It was like black, so deep and mysterious, but also a little like white – except it didn't change form at whim. Whatever affected the qualities of the Voss Force, it was there, just beyond what Cipher Nine could see.

It was also just a little enveloping, like the atmosphere was. Not deep in the way that space was, but more like… laying in deep grass.

So, black and white and a little of green made blue. Yes, that made sense. After all, Kaliyo had told him that mixing colours created new ones. He'd have to tell her what he'd discovered, later.

"It's such a beautiful place, in it's own way," Raina commented, breaking Telkwa out of his thoughts. He nodded in agreement, and Vector commented, too.

"We are probably the only off-worlders to have seen this place, besides the Shining Man himself. It is a privilege."

A Voss approached them. It's – his aura was a faint blue. Not a Mystic.

"You have faced the trials, outsiders," said the Voss without a word of greeting.

Trials? What? Walking here through the crowds of wild animals and unpleasant terrain? Was that what these people considered a trial? He'd just handed out two extra stealth generators, and they'd made the walk from the nearest outpost with a shuttle pad.

If that was all it took to see such a sacred place, these Mystics were going to have to up the ante or be inundated with off-worlders needing healing.

The Voss's expression shifted, and he waved a dismissive hand. "But the Wellspring is for the broken."

At a waver of Cipher Nine's aura, Vector took charge of the proceedings. He stepped forward and bowed slightly. "Please," he said, "our pilgrimage began many stars away. We wish only to request the aid of a Mystic."

The Voss was stalwart. "The Mystics tend the Wellspring," he explained. "The Mystics make bodies and minds whole. I will disturb them for nothing less."

Vector tried again. "One of our number is in need of healing. She is-"

"Acolyte," interrupted a voice, "bring them forward."

The Voss acolyte, stunned, looked between the group of outlanders and his Mystic. "Which one, honoured Mystic?" he asked.

"All of them."

Cipher Nine grinned. This was going better than expected. Now all they had to do was prompt Raina to step forward and receive the healing, and they'd be one step closer to the Shining Man, and Raina would finally be free. Two birds with one stone.

Vector again took the lead, as the one least likely to offend a mysterious alien Force-user. He stepped forward and bowed formally. "Honoured Mystic," he said, "we come-"

"Hush, off-worlder," the Mystic said, raising a hand. "Your time to speak will come shortly."

Vector took the rebuke in stride, but Cipher Nine had to reach out a hand to touch Kaliyo, holding her back so subtly even she probably didn't even realize what he'd done.

What had happened to the days she would have laughed at Vector for failing his part of diplomacy? She still had to resist the temptation to spit in the man's tea, from what Cipher Nine had seen. What an odd bunch they were.

"Off-worlders," the Mystic addressed them, waving a hand over a pedestal before her. The pedestal lit with flames of every colour Cipher Nine could imagine, and several he'd never seen before across all the galaxy. He wondered what the others saw. "Four come, shattered deep. One of two parts, one of no form, one who is trapped, and one who is broken."

She looked, in turn, to Vector, Kaliyo, Raina, and then, finally, Cipher- Telkwa.

Cipher Nine shivered. He didn't like anyone seeing that deeply.

The Mystic waved another hand, and the flames roared higher, then split into four parts, which separated and spread to the four corners of the pedestal.

"To rebuild a spirit, one rebuilds history," the Mystic explained. "The vitalicron is the vessel of memory. Each petitioner fills. In a vitalicron, the ceremony is preserved."

Spirits? That wasn't right. It was Raina's mind that needed healing.

"You want to suck out our memories or something?" Kaliyo snarled. "Not happening."

"Kaliyo," Cipher Nine interjected softly, "remember how powerful the person you're talking to is." Then he addressed the Mystic. "These vitalicrons remember everyone who comes here?"

Perhaps they could get a better idea of the Shining Man than they'd hoped. On the other hand, they might have to destroy the evidence of their own visit.

"Yes," the Mystic explained, which explained nothing at all. "Breath the mists and speak true."

The smoke of the fire spread in all its colours, leaping at the four off-worlders. Kaliyo started and leapt back, and Cipher Nine flinched as well. Raina took the gas straight to the face, and collapsed. Vector was hit equally hard, but stumbled to his knees more slowly before falling.

Cipher Nine barely had time to mutter, "keyword: iconoclasm," before the mist hit him and nearly overwhelmed him. Kaliyo collapsed beside him, and the spy gripped one of his knives. The Mystic, however, seemed unperturbed. She glanced to Raina, who was already regaining her feet, then to Vector and Kaliyo, who also stood up. For Cipher Nine, she spared not a glance, apparently unsurprised at his continued consciousness.

"You are the tree," the Mystic intoned. "Your roots, the past. The universe is soil."

"We're not gonna talk about-" Kaliyo cut off at a sharp head shake from Cipher Nine. She watched him sheathe his knife slowly, meaningfully.

He was going to be in so much trouble over this later. Ordering Kaliyo around was like damming a river with chain. At the edge of possible, with enough work, but all it meant was that something worse was coming eventually.

The Mystic raised her hands and the flames on the pedestal rose and brightened until they nearly blinded Cipher Nine. Raina gasped.

"The trees are sick," the Mystic told them. "See what nurtures the roots."

She turned to Kaliyo. "Remember a world of darkness, stone, and dust. A harsh people, violent but not cruel. Who were you then?"

The flames flickered with images. A child, Kaliyo, fleeing from a crowd into the arms of another – her mother. But her mother pushed her away, and Kaliyo ran.

Kaliyo shrugged, paying no attention to the images. "Whatever," she said, "I was a tough kid. I got out of there as soon as I could walk. Who cares about the rest?"

The Mystic watched her for a few seconds. It was obvious Kaliyo was lying. All of them knew it, one way or another. Still, the Voss woman moved on, looking at Vector next. The flames filled with images of Vector in a grand home. His parents were far off in the distance, and a sense of the Empire looming over him was palpable.

"Remember a time of discipline and plenty. Before you were called across the stars to speak on behalf of your Empire, your fascination grew. Who were you then?"

Vector opened his mouth, closed it, then finally spoke. "I was just a child, watching the holonets. I was fascinated with the war, horrified by it. I believed there must be a better way."

A nod, and then the question for Raina: "remember your beginnings, before you were chained. Ever-moving in the arms of your father, fleeing from the planet of cloud and storm. Who were you then?"

Raina as a baby, in the arms of a man. The Empire looming behind. She grew as Cipher Nine watched, until she was too big to carry, and the man – her father – led her to another. The day she joined the Chiss.

Raina looked taken aback. She looked around to the others, as if searching for support in her belief that this was a ridiculous question. "B-but I was so young back then," she sputtered, off-balance. "I don't remember what..."

She trailed off, staring into the flames closest to her, which had dissolved into such a maelstrom of images that Cipher Nine couldn't track it, in spite of his best efforts.

The Mystic started talking again, dragging his attention away from Raina's ongoing story. "Remember your family, always hopeful, holding on to what they had. Who were you then?"

That got the miralukan man's attention. It was one thing to hear the Mystic say such things to the others, but to him?

He didn't know what he should say, or if he could say anything even if he knew.

He looked at his companions without ever turning to them. Vector, so bright, solid and ethereal at the same time. Kaliyo, ever-shifting and seeming formless, but with an iron core. Raina, whose yearning he'd only sensed once he started looking for it, held back by a nameless something. The three of them had bared themselves, willingly or not, before him. Could he do any less?

"I believed in the Empire because my parents told me to. They thought it would keep me safer. I don't think they even know what happened to me… I disappeared into the Agency without ever looking back, because it seemed like the right thing to do."

What had that been? Cipher Nine had seen something. Something from the others. Maybe something he'd already seen a few times, and hadn't really noticed?

The Mystic had already moved on.

"Consider now the seasons that shaped the tree. A season of pilgrimage; you traveled from fleet to fen, never staying long in any place or with anyone."

Kaliyo's life flashed by, and Cipher Nine recognized only the barest hints of stories she'd told him of it. The same cast, often enough, but very different stories, one and all. Again, she didn't react, nor did any of the others.

Was it possible he was the only one who saw?

Maybe later, he could ask her about some of the things he saw. It was always helpful to watch the intricacies of Kaliyo's lies.

Though he suspected that, after today, he might get his first chance to hear some truths.

"Then a season of plenty," images of meeting and working with Cipher Nine himself flickered by, pausing twice. Once on the Dominator fighting Darth Jaedus. Then once more with Kaliyo watching Cipher Nine stumble towards the ship after a mission, standing back with her arms crossed. A piece of her split, and while she stood back as she had at that time, it seemed that a ghost of her leapt forward to help him stand and reach the med bay.

Cipher Nine smiled. That had been almost how it happened, in fact. Something about Kaliyo's voice could make even the most amiable man cling to life out of spite.

"You traveled across the stars then, but not alone. It was not the battles you fought that mattered, but-"

"Yeah, okay," Kaliyo interrupted, "that's great. Can we get on with this? I don't need your magic crap."

But Kaliyo couldn't stop the flames, which showed her standing beside Cipher Nine through the years, ever closer until she leaned on him, fighting off some nebulous threat.

There. That same flicker. But not from the others. From his own aura. What was that?

The Mystic went silent again, watching Kaliyo until the images in her flame died down. Still, none of the others paid attention to the fire itself.

Eventually, the Mystic nodded. "Very well." She turned to look at Vector.

"First, a season of growth. You spread roots deep and far, and your branches grew to reach the skies." Vector, meeting with groups of people, always smiling and walking them, smiling, towards that looming sense of Empire. Then he met the killiks. "Then, a splitting of the trunk. Your path diverged from itself. You learned a whole new self, amongst the minds of the Nest."

Vector nodded. "We have accepted this part of ourself. We are Vector, a Joiner of the Oroboro nest; Dawn Herald. We… are also a member of the Sanguine End's crew. We would have it no other way."

Images flickered in the flames, but Cipher Nine knew what they would be. This time, he paid attention to the others, to that subtle movement he'd seen before. For less than a second, he saw it again. Like a stretching, or the growing of a branch, but out and back again as fast as a whip. It was just a bit, from each of them, towards Vector.

Strange.

The Mystic woman did not wait for Cipher Nine to come to any conclusions. She moved on to the next person. The most important one.

"For you, it began with a season of cold. You grew as best you could, but your efforts were slowed by frost. The people stayed far from you, never letting you close. You, in turn, clung to old ideals. And so the cycle fed on itself. But where did it start?"

Raina reached out a hand to the pedestal. "What is that?" she asked. "There's something in the flames, isn't there?"

She didn't see herself, hiding from the Empire, ignored by the Chiss, and yet reaching out to both at the same time. Didn't see the pain etched on her own features in a way Cipher Nine had never quite grasped when it had just been her physical form. But she could feel it.

"Then came a season of warmth. Your branches stretched out and found others." Raina's figure reached out to the crew of the Sanguine end. Vector and Cipher Nine took her hand, and Doctor Lokin put a hand on her shoulder, watching the whole thing with a paternal smile. Even Kaliyo, though she turned away, the hand she waved dismissively lingered long enough for Raina to catch it.

Cipher Nine grinned. What a perfect metaphor for Kaliyo.

Raina smiled at woman telling her story, as if she'd just remembered something happy. "Yes," she said, "I never expected… I'm happy here. I mean, that is-"

A hand on her shoulder steadied the embarrassed girl, but she still lowered her head in chagrin.

That same stretching. This time, most strongly between him and her.

"We know," he said. "We're happy to have you."

Her smile grew a little more confident. The Mystic moved on.

"For the one who sees, a season of fire." Images of the Eagle, of the Old Man, of Jaedus. Cipher Nine stood before each one. "You purged a darkness by kindling the blaze. Many screamed, but you did what no other could."

"No," Telkwa interrupted, holding out a hand to the flames as they tried to shift. The Mystic started, but did not move. "That's wrong." He tried his best, but he couldn't shift the flames, couldn't make them show the truth. "There were two at my side. I didn't fight the fire alone."

Then, as if the words were a trigger, that same flicker occurred. This time, Kaliyo and Vector's auras touched him, and the flame burst into new images, and they stood beside him on the pedestal. It was still a horrifying image, his own hand lighting the sparks of fires across entire worlds, but at least he wasn't alone.

Not then, at least.

Cipher Nine stepped back, satisfied. The Mystic watched him curiously, then continued. "Then, a season of famine. You stood alone." The words hit like a punch to the gut. Now, Telkwa, walked alone amongst his crew, with the Republic and Empire looming over him. "Your friends and foes carved the wood of your mind. Speak of the wound. Speak of your strength."

"Both sides used me like a puppet," Cipher Nine spat. Then he reigned himself in.

It was the images. They brought it all back too vividly. He cast around the room for something, anything else to focus on, and found it easily. The brightest one in the room. Vector. He paid attention to no other thing.

"For a time," murmured the spy, "it all started to feel pointless."

"The one who hides. Now you are in a season of shade. What you need is beyond your reach. What will you do now?"

Kaliyo's flames showed her grasping at something in the distance, something that seemed to get further away each time she reached out. For some reason, this image was unclear. Cipher Nine couldn't tell what she was reaching for. Maybe because Kaliyo didn't know herself?

Kaliyo took this part worse than before. She actually snarled at the Mystic. "Shut up," she snapped. "It doesn't matter what I do, and I suppose you know that, miss high and mighty. Out of my reach, my-"

She froze as Cipher Nine stepped up to her, doing his very best to meet her eyes. He set his jaw and said, "it isn't just my ship. And it isn't just your reach. We've got a couple extra guns for you, if you want them."

Kaliyo's eyes narrowed, and the snarl didn't pass from her face. If anything, it changed into something quite a bit more pained. No, that wasn't her face, it was her aura, twisting in some agony he couldn't understand. What was she hiding?

She stepped back from him and waved a hand dismissively, pulling away from Raina and Vector, too. They'd both moved subtly closer, though maybe not consciously.

Even as she stepped away, however, her aura leapt out, just as it had before. And theirs did to, all of them, and they touched for a fraction of a second.

It was like a jolt through Cipher Nine's body, and the others felt it, too. It wasn't uncomfortable, though. It felt safe, or warm. Maybe…

Maybe it was his imagination, but he could swear Kaliyo didn't back off as much as she usually would.

"The one who joins." Three Vectors, each standing with a different group. The Killiks, the Empire, and the crew. "Your loyalties pull at you, but it is past time to make a decision. What will you do now?"

"Vector," Raina asked innocently, "what does she mean, your loyalties pull at you?"

Vector shifted uncomfortably. Kaliyo glanced at him, then at Cipher Nine. They both realized the same thing.

Joiners couldn't lie.

So Cipher Nine did it for him. Sort of. "Some of my missions of late have been unsanctioned." Understatement. "Vector believes my goals have diverged from those of the Empire." Because Cipher Nine had told him so. "We've also been having some trouble with the negotiations for the Killiks..." Which were not painting the Empire in a positive light, but Raina wouldn't assume that.

Raina looked taken aback. "Sir," she said, biting her lip, "if you've been acting against the interests of the Empire-"

Cipher Nine shook his head and lied, "no, not against them. But sometimes not for them, either. Scorpio, for example, will likely never be known of in the Empire. Not if I can help it, that is. The Empire would call that insubordination, especially since I began falsifying my reports – yes, Ensign, I know. Just listen for a moment. What do you think would happen if the Empire knew about Scorpio?"

There. Shift Raina's focus. Not the bigger picture of defying the Empire, but a smaller thing. A detail he could exploit her weaknesses over.

The ensign pursed her lips slightly, then gave her answer. "Well, I suppose they'd take her for study."

"Which would do two things," Cipher Nine said, holding up two fingers. "First, it would cripple our hunt for the Star Cabal, which we knew is poised to wipe out a large portion of the Imperial ruling class. Second, the Empire would inevitably hook her up or lose control of her, and then the Scorpio sanctions would be active across the entire holonet. I'm sure you can imagine a fraction of that disaster."

Vector said nothing at all this. His best method of lying: let Cipher Nine do it, and say nothing to contradict the miralukan.

Raina nodded slowly. "I understand. It is regrettable, but it does seem to be the only course of action. I wish you had told me about your decision, however."

Cipher Nine gave a curt nod. "As you gain experience in the field, ensign." Then he turned to Vector. "Vector? Your decision?"

Vector hung his head. His aura raged, whirling and crashing in upon itself in waves. Cipher Nine forced himself not to pull his attention away, but he could feel a headache starting.

"Agent," he said quietly, "you are our friend, and we are loyal to the Empire, and a part of the Oroboro Nest. Even if you ask us to decide… oof!"

Vector staggered sideways at a heavy blow, clutching his shoulder and looking at Kaliyo, aghast. Kaliyo gave her fist a loosening shake and donned an expression somewhere between a scowl and a smirk.

"You idiot," she said, and her voice carried the same emotion as her expression, "you complete idiot. I thought you said Joiners couldn't lie."

Vector opened his mouth to speak, but Kaliyo rolled her eyes – in such an exaggerated manner that even Cipher Nine could see – and cut him off. "You have. You've been lying to yourself. For months! Idiot. You've already made your decision."

Vector stared at her blankly. Kaliyo just sighed and tilted her head towards Cipher Nine.

Slowly, Vector started to smile. "Thank you, Kaliyo."

Kaliyo snorted and turned away. Even so, Vector's aura reached out to all of them, and that same jolt hit them.

The Mystic nodded and moved on.

"The one who is trapped." Raina started. She had no idea what that meant. "Your world has grown beyond where you can grow. You stand on the inside, looking out at an expanding land. We can break you free, if that is what you wish."

Raina's response was predictable. "What are you talking about?"

"She's asking if you want healing," Cipher Nine said quietly. "If I had to guess, you have to be willing to go through with it… and this ritual heals the soul, not the mind."

Raina shook her head. "I don't understand. I don't understand at all!" Her aura shrank into herself, trying to make itself as small as possible, and she back away from them, into the pedestal. The fire burned her, and she leapt away from it, too.

Cipher Nine leaned into a step, took hold of one of her shoulders, then the next, and put his face beside hers, so their cheeks almost touched. Her breathing, which was already fast, took on a shallow quality.

"Raina," he whispered to her, "do you trust me?"

Raina's aura stabilized somewhat, though it still rent at her barriers. She gulped, and Telkwa felt the motion of her body with it. She opened her mouth, closed it again. But her answer was already there, plainly visible in her aura as it reached out to him.

One more jolt.

"Good," he said. "Then listen. If I told you everything, things would go terribly wrong. You just need to answer two questions. Can you do that."

So quietly nobody else could have heard her, Raina said, "I- I think so."

Telkwa nodded slowly, his chin tapping Raina's shoulder. After all, she was a little taller than he was. "The first question, then," he said softly. "Do you feel the truth of what she said is true? Do you feel trapped? As if the world is growing without you?"

Raina shut her eyes against tears, but they hit his shoulder anyway. Neither Kaliyo nor Vector spoke, and the Mystic maintained the silence she always did between answers. The young soldier nodded, barely moving her head at all.

"Do you want to be free?"

Again, the slightest of nods.

"Then tell her, Raina. Tell her you want to grow again." Telkwa pulled back, just close enough that he could feel Raina's breath on his face. His hands on Raina's shoulders turned her around gently until she faced the Voss Mystic.

The Mystic's face didn't change, but her aura rippled once. Cipher Nine assumed it was something positive, because she asked, "do you wish to be healed, trapped one?"

The Mystic nodded once, then turned to Cipher Nine.

He didn't need to hear what she said. He'd already made his decisions. Maybe that meant his spirit was broken beyond repair. He was long past caring.

He'd come today for one person, and she was going to be alright.


	10. Chapter 10

Cipher Nine's mouth repeated the words soundlessly. "Join our family in marriage." When the Voss's words still didn't make sense, he repeated them again.

It didn't feel right. The logic was sound, of course; marriage would make him "Voss" and get him the access he needed, but it wasn't… he was trained in seduction. It wasn't something he used often, but he tolerated it as a necessary measure. Marriage, though, it was…

A low whistle jerked the miralukan out of his mental train crash.

Kaliyo elbowed him in the stomach, harder than necessary. "You can't see the blushing bride, but it's pretty impressive. Rainbow colours and all."

With a tilt of his head towards Kaliyo, Cipher Nine slipped back into his role. "I apologize for my companion," he said with a self-deprecating grin. Then he shifted to a more sympathetic expression and spoke to the Voss girl. "I know this isn't what you want, Yana-ton. Your proposal honours me, but I might be able to find another way to see the carvings..."

Yana-ton shook her head, but she leaned into her brother and away from her uncle, the man who'd suggested the marriage. "It isn't real," she said calmly, shaking her head.

Her aura told a much less tranquil story of her feelings. If he was reading it properly. New aliens could be very hard to read.

Therod-ton, the uncle, raised his hand. "We mourn later," he said. "Make preparations. Go to the Sacred Flame in the city. You will be married today. You will see the carvings of Nightmare Lands. Bas-Ton's wishes fulfilled."

Then he turned and walked away. Cipher Nine watched him leave, out a door and into one of the back rooms.

The brother, Phi-ton, left without a word.

Yana-ton stayed, though. Not for long, but she did. She stayed and looked at Cipher Nine for a long while, saying nothing. Kaliyo wandered off, and the miralukan and voss simply watched each other for a time.

Maybe Yana-ton was thinking the same thing Telkwa was. Maybe she disliked the idea of wasting a marriage, but knew the reasons for it outweighed personal preference. Reasons like loyalty to her father's memory.

A false father, one who had been replaced by a spy years ago.

There was a time Cipher Nine had been so loyal to something, and that loyalty had been just as misplaced.

He let out a held breath when Yana-Ton did finally leave. It surprised him, but it didn't matter.

"Make preparations," Therod-Ton had said. Preparations to be married. What sort of preparations were those?

A bit less steadily than he'd have liked, Cipher Nine pulled out his holocom and made a call.

Indecipherable energy flickered and formed above the device. It was a dim thing, and faint. Impossible to make out in detail without a terrible migraine. Still, in this case, there was another option.

"Yes, agent? How can we assist?"

Telkwa's attention shifted, following the tether that had formed between himself and three of his crewmembers. His three friends.

Though he wouldn't tell the others, there was one that was brighter than the others. That wasn't surprising. Vector's aura glowed brightly, and he was used to connecting to others.

Telkwa followed that trail three kilometers across the city to where Vector and Raina were taking part in a food-tasting. Some very minor festival was hosting dozens of Voss foods and, in the words of Vector, "we would sorely regret not taking advantage of this opportunity."

Telkwa had almost joined them, but he'd been too busy. Too rushed. And here he was, rushed again, into something he could never have planned for.

"I'm getting-" he choked a bit. Maybe blurting out the situation wasn't the best option. He cleared his throat and tried again. "We have a situation. How soon can you get to the Bez-ken Cantina?"

Vector took a few seconds, presumably to consult a map on his datapad, then reported, "we can be there within twenty-five minutes. Is there anything we should be aware of?"

"Yes," Telkwa answered. Then he hesitated. "No. Just… I'll tell you when you get here."

He hung up the com without saying any more.

"We have a situation," Kaliyo mimicked in a mechanical tone. "You know, for a spy, you can have a really bad sabacc face."

Cipher Nine grunted and turned to leave. If they walked to the cantina, they'd make it in about half an hour. Plenty of time to think.

The tether between he and Kaliyo pulsed gently. He specifically did not break the rattataki's arm when she grabbed his shoulder, no matter what his training and nerves said.

Why was he so nervous?

"Hey," Kaliyo snapped, and their tether flared bright, "hold up a second. You need to talk this through, or you're gonna fuck it up when the bug-man shows up."

The look on Kaliyo's face could almost be described as concern. For some reason, this mattered to her. For some reason… "what's Vector got to do with this?"

Kaliyo ground her teeth. "Oh, for the love of-" She shoved the man towards the door. "Look. Shut up. It doesn't matter."

She followed him out the door, still shoving into his back. "Just shut the fuck up." She only stopped when she noticed his right hand curling into a fist. She pulled her hand away and pointed off to a tree off the beaten path. "There. Less rainbow men running around. Just walk and listen, because you're about to do something stupid and you don't even know it."

What did Kaliyo need to hide from the Voss? And what was Kaliyo so concerned about? It wasn't her or Vector who were expected to deal with the business of bonding themselves to an alien being and species.

Deception or not, it unsettled the agent. Or perhaps it unsettled him because it was a deception.

Maybe somebody who routinely killed people didn't have room to complain about being forced into anything.

Kaliyo stopped him before he walked into the tree she'd pointed out before.

Why was their tether doing that pulsing thing?

Then the mercenary pulled roughly on his shoulder, spinning him to face her. "Right," she said, scowling. "Sit down, Mr. Short, Pale, and Brooding."

Cipher Nine remained standing.

Kaliyo's hand clamped down hard on his shoulder and she pushed him backwards into the tree. Armour covered in light cloth clanked dully against the wood. Then Kaliyo's other hand came up.

Long-trained instincts said to block. They said to sweep a gauntleted arm outwards to catch her inner elbow, then bring his other hand in and gouge her forearm with the spikes on the knuckles of his gauntlet, crippling her.

A small part of him, the part that felt closest to the tether between them, said that this was Kaliyo, and he should trust her.

Then there was his more recent training, the instincts he'd suppressed for most of his life that let him see as he should, that helped him understand properly. They said that, whatever Kaliyo was doing, it wasn't attacking. She wasn't angry with him, she didn't mean him harm.

He didn't block.

Kaliyo didn't hit him. She reached up, took hold of his hood, and pulled it back, revealing to her his short-cropped hair, severe face, and complex headgear. She stared at his visor, the one he used to cover up where his eyes should be.

For a moment, he wondered if she was going to kiss him.

Her hand dug roughly into his shoulder and her heavily armoured weight pushed him against the tree, and she said, "you're getting married."

He frowned. "Yes. I'm aware of that."

"And you can't handle it."

"What-"

"You can't," she insisted, pushing him backwards again. "You know it, I know it, as soon as you tell the others, they'll know it, too. I'm not dealing with that, so I'm fixing it now. Are you going to listen, or am I going to have to make you?"

What in the Emperor's name had gotten into Kaliyo?

"Just tell me what you want, Kaliyo."

"Yeah, it always works that way, doesn't it?" She pulled back and crossed her arms, shaking her head. "You always give me just enough leeway to think I'm making my own decisions. I bet you know I know it, too. But you're not getting out of this easy. This is your problem, and you're not ditching us to deal with it. I had enough of that with all the quiet secret-keeping when whatsisface had you brainslaved. I didn't even care, I was just pissed you didn't tell me about it."

The tether. It had to be the tether. It was bright enough now to start giving him a headache, and Kaliyo was spouting secrets like she couldn't wait for him to know everything about her.

He reached out to try to grasp the tether, to focus on it and see if he could fix it, fix Kaliyo.

Kaliyo put a hand to his chest and pushed him – lightly, this time – back into the tree.

"This is klasof for you and I know it. Worse than the war, right? And I can tell you why: you've been looking for approval and acceptance ever since you popped out of your mommy's meathole. That's why you joined Intelligence. That's why you ran crying to the Republic when they betrayed you. And that's why you've been so desperate to get closer to us ever since it all started."

No. No, no, no. That wasn't right.

The tether. He had to stop the tether.

"Look, I get it. I went through a phase like that, too, when I was a little kid, too stupid to know better." Smooth aura, swirling slightly around her temples. So, a bent truth, but only slightly. The tether kept twisting tighter and tighter and never shrinking, just getting stronger and pulling harder. "And you did better than me. You pulled it off. You've got all of us idiots following you, helping you out. Even the crazy old monster."

Her hand slammed against the tree beside Cipher Nine's head. "And you're not betraying any of us, either!"

Telkwa's blood went cold. "Shut up," he whispered.

"We're on your side. I don't know how, but you've got us. We're-"

"Shut up!"

The tether exploded!

Kaliyo stumbled backwards.

And then Telkwa raised his hands.

"What was that!?" Kaliyo stomped back towards him, reaching forward and grabbing the neck of his armour. She dragged his face close to hers and yelled, "what the hells was that?! Since when can you even do that?! Is that how much you want to avoid talking about it? Are you really that much of a coward?"

She reached up with her other hand and rested her hand where his jawbone met his neck. Again, Telkwa wondered if she was planning to kiss him. Or break his neck.

"You don't get to push us away anymore," she snarled. "None of us."

She was right.

The tether was still there.

"Let's get a few things straight," Kaliyo continued, putting enough pressure on the side of his neck to start hurting, "The Voss are not the Empire or the Republic. You don't owe them your loyalty, and they're not asking for it. It's just a spy using a few trusting idiots to get what he wants. Got it?"

His head nodded, but it had more to do with the pressure on his neck than actual assent.

"Second, this marriage business doesn't matter. It's nothing. I've been married twice. Nobody gives a hutt's ass about it. Vector's not even going to care, except in that, 'ooh, look at the interesting aliens,' way he does. Alright?"

That was right. Vector probably wouldn't even think twice about it. After all, he was a Joiner. How could a simple promise compare to the link that that connected Vector to the Oroboro nest?

But it still mattered to Telkwa. It was a promise, an oath. He'd had them betrayed, but never betrayed one himself.

Still, he nodded.

Kaliyo wasn't convinced. She sighed. "You know you can't lie to us anymore, right? Raina got the whole thing figured out while you and Vector were running around, and it's been driving me nuts. I guess it comes in handy, though. So what did I miss?"

Cipher Nine shook his head and pushed off from the tree. "It's nothing," he said, walking past Kaliyo.

"Dendenye, it is," Kaliyo grumbled, moving to walk beside him. "What's this about? Agent, you lie for a living. This isn't any different, and you should know that."

"Let's just get to the cantina. I'll deal with the rest, Kaliyo. I will."

They walked in silence to the cantina. Kaliyo grumbled initially, but quickly subsided into a passive glower. She didn't even keep up her usual commentary.

It wasn't that the spy didn't want help, just that he wasn't certain why he felt so strongly. There wasn't any way for Kaliyo to help if there wasn't anything to help with. He just felt like he was going to lose something to this sham marriage, and he didn't know what.

They intercepted Vector and Raina a couple of blocks away from the cantina.

Raina waved. Her aura was bright. Not just because of her Force sensitivity, not in the same way, even. It was deeper, rather than radiant. Something he hadn't even thought to see before.

Raina was more full of life now. That was how he thought of it. She felt more like herself, she said, and it showed. She acted less confidently, but when she acted, she was happier with her choice.

And that, he'd noticed after only a week.

She ran up and hugged him while Kaliyo and Vector stood back and watched. Then she tried to hug Kaliyo, who threatened to knock her lights out. Raina's response was to threaten a mind trick. Both were joking, and Kaliyo grumbled and stood stock still as Raina put arms around the bulky suit of armour Kaliyo wore.

It was probably temporary. Just Raina blowing off steam after so many years.

Vector stood back initially, then walked up to his miralukan companion while Raina was distracted.

"You mentioned a situation, agent," he said. "We have been worried."

"Yes," Cipher Nine replied, "well..." He trailed off. It was a simple thing. Except it wasn't. It felt like there was a lot to explain, and not enough words or any place to start. So he just stood there with his mouth shaping some words over and over again. "Well, it's sort of… sort of… well, it's..."

"Our favourite little spy is getting married," Kaliyo offered.

Did Vector's aura just stutter?

Vector nodded very slowly. "I… see."

"It's the only way to get to the carvings that will lead us to the Shining Man. It's nothing significant, just a means to an end. Therod-ton suggested it. And you can observe the Voss marriage customs..." Cipher Nine trailed off. His hands clenched at his sides, and he tried to keep his aura under control. It was something he'd been practicing since the fight with Darth Jadus. He'd gotten very good at it. So why wasn't it working right now?

"We are here to help you prepare, then," Vector guessed. "Ritual purification and ceremonial clothing, for example. This is an excellent opportunity."

Telkwa found himself smiling at that. It was just like Kaliyo had predicted, just like he'd hoped.

Maybe he wasn't going to lose anything.

Raina bounded up to them and stood almost military straight in between the two men. "That sounds interesting. How much time do we have?"

Kaliyo looked much less excited. "That's it?" she asked, staring at the three of them. "This whole thing with the Shining Man, that stupid purification ritual, and you're getting married, and you call up Vector and Raina to help you get dressed?"

"Well," Cipher Nine answered, a bit indignantly, "I can't exactly pick out my own colours."

The mercenary raised her hands, as if ready to strangle him. Then she turned to Vector. "And you're okay with this?"

Vector nodded, just as mystified as his friend. "Though unexpected, this is a unique opportunity."

Kaliyo looked between the two of them, then put her hands to her temples as if nursing a headache and threw her head back. "Slujen, the both of you."

Cipher Nine smiled. Maybe he wasn't exactly happy, but he was feeling more comfortable now. So he followed Raina, who'd already set off to find the nearest clothing vendor, and resigned himself to another normal day.

Well, a normal day for a highly trained, disenfranchised iconoclast and those few friends he'd somehow convinced to help him.

A good day. In spite of impending marriage.


	11. Chapter 11

13 ASC

Fear had a spiky, wavering appearance, like a person instinctively reaching out for help and quailing from the object of his terror at the same time. If Cipher Nine weren't so disgusted with himself, he'd be fascinated. It was almost artistic in nature. It was another way to understand those around him, in all the situations life could throw at them.

 _Crnch. Crnch._

Cipher Nine sighed. "Kaliyo…"

"Mm-hmf? _Gulp._ So, what's the big boss doing now?"

"He appears to have ceased his futile ramblings. The deprivation chamber I constructed is working perfectly, of course. He will break soon enough."

Kaliyo turned to see the newest arrival in the meeting room.

"Hello, Scorpio," Cipher Nine said drily. "I suppose your confidence means you already have an exact record of Moff Phennir's state throughout his stay? That's good. It means I won't have to go through the trouble of sharing what I've observed."

Of course, Scorpio had no such record. Kaliyo's smirk proved that even she knew it. It was just the droid's arrogance that let her make such predictions.

Scorpio went silent for a few seconds, probably so she could figure out how to ask her question without actually making a request of a "lower life form". Or was it just "life form"? Maybe the phrase was redundant in Scorpio's mind.

"Your senses are… difficult to replicate with the technology in this facility. If you desire a full analysis of the prisoner's state, you will provide me with all available data."

Not bad verbal gymnastics.

Cipher Nine shared Kaliyo's smirk for an instant, then turned to face Scorpio.

"You're going to want to build the next one out of better materials," he said. "The good Moff has already damaged the room in a few places. I thought he wasn't supposed to be able to touch anything?"

It was fun to watch the droid squirm. She'd designed the room herself, claiming it would increase the brain's susceptibility to the IX Serum. If that didn't prove to be the case, and better yet if it was because of a mistake Scorpio had made, that should knock her down a few pegs.

It had been Doctor Lokin's idea, actually. Keep Scorpio thinking she needed them, that she was still fallible and would learn most from staying loyal. In his words, it was, "the only way to control her." If, by control, he'd meant, "point her in the right direction and hope she goes off on our enemies."

There was a subtle shift in Scorpio's aura. All her changes were subtle, but at least they were almost consistent. Maybe he'd even learn them soon. "Moff Phennir is the first test subject in a series of potential experiments. My ability to account for every variable is still limited; the technology here pales in comparison to that on Belsavis."

Cipher Nine shook his head. "Well, we're not going back there any time soon. I hear the Republic is finally starting to get back control of the surface, and I don't feel like running the inevitable Imperial blockade."

The group lapsed into silence. Scorpio stared at her owner and Kaliyo took another enormous bite of… whatever pastry-like thing it was she'd picked up several dozen of back in that Voss shop. Whatever they were, they preserved well, and her heart rate picked up by about twenty bpm every time she ate one.

Scorpio made a motion to talk, but Cipher Nine raised a finger and said, "Doctor? Why don't you come in? We're discussing Moff Phennir's mental state."

Doctor Lokin, the monstrous but kindly doctor, walked into the room as if he'd only happened by. Maybe he had. The old man gave a smile. "Oh, that sounds fascinating. I take it the analysis is based on your own observations, agent?"

"It is hard to build a proper deprivation chamber against the Force," the miralukan replied with a shrug and a smile.

A quiet burp from Kaliyo. "So, get to the story. I want to know what the uppity fop is doing."

"Like Scorpio said, he's mostly shut up now. It makes sense. You wouldn't know if you've never been in one, but it's pretty disconcerting not hearing any echo from things you say. Our brains are just used to filtering out a certain amount of ambient sound, and when it's gone..."

"Its starts adding stuff in," Kaliyo supplied. Her aura shrank in on itself momentarily. "Yeah. Not fun."

Cipher Nine looked at her. Actually looked, so she could see his incredulous look. "You've been locked up in an SD room?"

She shook her head. "Nah. Just a quiet room."

"Impressive," Doctor Lokin commented. "In my experience, those are not much more tolerable."

Cipher Nine sighed into his hands. "I need to meet some normal people… Look, do you want to know what's going on in there or not?"

Three nods of assent with characteristic degrees of enthusiasm.

"Alright," he said, letting himself down to the floor and leaning back on the bulkhead. "Give me a second."

He leaned his head back, breathed in slowly through his nose, then out through his mouth. It wasn't that he needed the help focusing on Phennir, though it didn't hurt. It was just hard to get his thoughts in order about this sort of thing. Translating a sense he'd ignored for most of his life into words, explaining a man's mental state with it, it was all pretty new to him. So, he took a second and thought.

"You know he wasn't scared at all when we brought him here," he mused, thinking back to the gagged but still swearing man practically dragged in by a pair of anonymous thugs. Phennir had changed hands twice before reaching the Cipher's crew, and hadn't seemed a bit worried over the rough handling.

"That would be the ingrained Imperial arrogance, I'm afraid."

That sounded about right. Of course, Lokin would know. He'd met more than his share of Moffs in his time.

"You ever kidnap a Moff before, old monster?"

Lokin smiled congenially. "Dear girl, I hope you don't expect me to give you potentially damaging information so easily."

"Worth a shot."

"Enough," Scorpio snapped. "Agent. Continue."

The spy smiled, taking his time regathering his thoughts. It was a lot of fun giving out information just a little too slowly for the droid. "He only got scared when we put him in the chamber, and that just made him angrier. He got very loud for a while there. I think the antigravity saved the chamber from too much damage."

"As I calculated."

Kaliyo snorted. Loudly.

"There's still a good reason you could tell he went silent, though. He damaged some of the sound damping material in the wall before finally giving up. It doesn't look like he noticed the change in ambient sound. He just exhausted himself and quit."

"Many in his position are unused to situations such as this, Cipher," Lokin offered. "It is possible he's given up hope, though I caution against lowering our guard."

"I am designed to be constantly vigilant. I do not sleep or tire. What the rest of your crew does is irrelevant."

"I could make you pretty irrelevant pretty f-"

"He's breaking," Cipher Nine pronounced. "I've been watching him lose hope for days. I can't say for certain whether the IX Serum is acting faster than usual, not with the range of time intervals it can take to be effective, but I'm certain he'll be more suggestible overall once it's over."

Kaliyo finished her pastry and dropped the wrapper where she stood. "Hey," she asked, "what're you feeding the guy, anyway? It's been three days. You got him hooked up to IV or something?"

"Or something," Scorpio replied enigmatically.

Cipher Nine grimaced, looking at the contraption attached to Moff Phennir. If anything, that _thing_ had been the biggest reason he'd hesitated to try out the deprivation chamber. No matter what Lokin said, it didn't look humane.

He'd given in, under the condition that they wipe most of the experience from the Moff's memory.

Kaliyo shuddered and spat.

More work for 2V.

"How are preparations for his return?" The miralukan directed his question at his more experienced crewmate. "Has anyone noticed his absence?"

Lokin shook his head. "As we hoped, having the Moff's personal aid under our control has smoothed the entire process greatly. I've, ah, taken the liberty of having him reach out to a few of our potential secondaries. Should everything proceed according to plan, we may have as many as a dozen new candidates by month's end."

"Hah," Cipher Nine breathed. "I'm impressed. Thank you, Doctor."

The old man nodded with a smile.

"Alright," Cipher Nine grunted as he stood up, "I think that's all. Scorpio, we'll be on Corellia in two weeks. If your theory works out and the Moff's ready by then, you can come with us planetside. Maybe you can even develop some countermeasures for Force-users, if we all play our cards right."

The droid hummed happily. Or in anticipation? Maybe satisfaction? Whatever it was, she probably wasn't going to focus too much attention on circumventing the limits on her system any time soon.

"Kaliyo, Doctor Lokin is going to take a look at you and one of those pastries you got from Voss. I don't like what they're doing to your heart. No," he said when she opened her mouth, "that's not negotiable. If you don't want to get benched for Temple, you're getting a check-up."

"You can't keep me on the ship," Kaliyo hissed.

"No, but I can disappear without you when we land, and you won't find us for a month."

With that parting shot, the spy walked out of the room and into the little base's main room. He paused, sighed, and headed towards his room.

He made it to his door before he noticed Vector. Then he turned the corner, walked down one of the halls, and stopped at Vector's door.

Vector looked up from a very comfortable seat and a large pile of papers. The room was filled with shelves datapads and even a book or two.

Nobody would ever defend Vector from accusations of eccentricity.

"Oh, Agent. Welcome. We were working on a comparison of Alderaanian poetry with some of the more naturalistic aspects of the Voss' contributions."

Telkwa frowned, stepped into the room, and closed the door behind him. He couldn't read the datapads or papers, but…

"No, you weren't," he said, trying not to sound accusatory. "At least, not actively. What's on your mind, Vector?"

His friend's gaze shifted. Slowly, deliberately and yet hesitantly, he pushed his papers and books to the side.

"We are… troubled, Ag-"

"Telkwa."

Vector smiled weakly. "Telkwa."

Telkwa pulled a chair close to his friend and sat down. "What's wrong?"

The tether between the two of them tightened, hard. Vector looked closely into Telkwa's face.

Telkwa frowned and swallowed.

"We have seen what we are doing to Moff Phennir. It is dim, faint – I cannot see it well, but his fear eats away at us. You must see it, as well."

Yes. What was blurry to electromagnetic senses was vivid in the Force. Painfully vivid. The distance Vector watched at, the lack of detail he had, it should have meant he didn't have a clear idea of what Phennir was going through.

No, he probably didn't. The difference was that Vector was a much more empathic person. Separating his own identity from that of others, it was harder for a Joiner.

All Telkwa could do was nod.

"Over the last three days, I have begun to wonder… Telkwa, are you sure we are doing the right thing?"

Telkwa pulled back, body and mind. He saw Moff Phennir suffering and changing, Scorpio observing, Lokin and Kaliyo bickering, and Temple listening to popular Kaasian music while studying something new. Then he reeled his senses back in, focusing on Vector and that tether between them, twisted taut.

He unclenched a jaw suddenly stiff with tension, and took a deep breath, wondering what to say.


	12. Chapter 12

For the second time, Cipher Nine and Kaliyo walked into Imperial Intelligence to find a Sith committing murder inside.

At least this one was being up front about it.

"There's a lot of men with a lot of guns," Kaliyo remarked drily. "Can't all be for us."

"Why, Kaliyo," Cipher Nine murmured, "no need for modesty."

The Sith, some alien that wore a dead thing on his head, spoke with a quiet menace to the victim he held aloft. "Failure and disobedience are one and the same…"

"My lord," the choking human gasped, "I tried-"

That was Watcher Three's voice!

"In the Sith tongue, both translate as 'treason'. That is the wisdom of the ancients!"

Cipher Nine stepped forward, but Kaliyo grabbed his arm. "LOTS of guns," she hissed.

The spy took his hand off his dagger.

Lokin would laugh at the rookie mistake of throwing all their work and planning away over one Sith and Vector would be stunned to see Kaliyo acting as the voice of reason. Not Kaliyo. She understood.

As much as it was all about destroying those in power, it was still all about protecting the ones without it. Deep down, Kaliyo got that better than any of the others, even Temple.

"This is an unnecessary waste of resources," Cipher Nine called out, stepping past the soldiers until he stood beside Watcher Three, facing the Sith. "This man is of more use to you alive. His success rate proves that."

Kaliyo kept her distance, outside the group of soldiers. She also kept a hand pretty close to her gun.

"The Cipher agent," crooned the Sith. "You defeated the traiter Jaedus and the fools in the SIS. My masters acknowledge your service." He dropped Watcher Three, who fell into Cipher Nine's arms, unable to stand. It was a lot of weight for the diminutive spy to hold, but Watcher Three got his legs under himself quickly enough.

"But you are Intelligence no longer," the Sith declared. "By order of the Dark Council, Operations Division is dissolved. Personnel will be reassigned to wartime units or to deserving Sith Lords."

Only training kept Cipher Nine from gaping in awe. The level of stupidity… "With all due respect," he managed, "Operations is needed now more than ever."

"Yes," the Sith agreed. "It is. The war does not go well, whatever the official word. The Ministry of War must have resources, and Intelligence fails to do its part. We hear rumours of corruption and treason. Agents wasted chasing down conspiracies, a brain-dead Keeper… time to butcher the beast for its meat."

Incredible. It was as if the very universe was trying to assuage his fears that he was going too far, sacrificing too much. This, right here, was exactly why he did everything he did. The power these people held, it wasn't meant for them. What the Empire and Republic needed was a reset, a fix to take away all of this power in the hands of people who didn't know what they were doing, the sort of people who would wipe out entire planets and give loyal servants away like slaves without a thought.

"I won't argue the point." Why help a nation he was going to destroy to keep a power base that could actually stop him? "What happens next?"

"You take on your new role." The Sith said it with such satisfaction it seemed like he felt the whole thing was his own idea. Or maybe he was just proud to serve. Cipher Nine had known what that was like, once. "But first, your team. Surrender the rattataki."

Kaliyo spiked with fear. "Wait, what?"

Again, Telkwa nearly moved without thinking. His hand went to his flashbangs as Kaliyo turned to run.

He saw the soldiers coming from outside, though. A Sith, a dozen of his personal guard, and more on the way? Jokes aside, there was nothing he or Kaliyo could do. So he watched his friend run right into the waiting arms of two soldiers. The grabbed her roughly and practically dragged her back towards Cipher Nine and the Sith. Then the shoved her forward.

Fourteen guns pointed at Kaliyo.

"Intelligence may overlook her past," explained the Sith, "but she is an anarchist and an enemy of the Empire. She will be interrogated and judged."

"I will kill you. You get that? I will kill you!" Cipher Nine couldn't tell whether Kaliyo was pointing at himself or the Sith.

The spy took a few steps forward. The soldiers didn't shoot, and Kaliyo didn't punch him. That was a good sign.

So he wound up and punched Kaliyo in the gut. As she bent double, gasping, he put his mouth to her ear. "I'll come for you."

Then he straightened up and waved dismissively. The soldiers took his friend away.

"Apologies, my lord," Cipher Nine said. "That was cathartic."

And it had been, in a way. It wasn't as if Kaliyo hadn't earned her share of payback from Cipher Nine over the years.

Kaliyo kept screaming at them as they dragged her away. "These people are dead! And when I'm through with them, you and me are gonna finish this, I swear!"

Hope she doesn't mean me, thought the miralukan.

"The rest of your team can remain intact," said Lord Razer, which salved Cipher Nine's fears that they'd discovered Ensign Temple's nature. "As for you… by special request of the Minister of Intelligence, you are being transferred to my brigade on the Corellian front lines. Together, we will drown the Republic in blood!"

With that, the Sith left.

Watcher Three massaged his throat and gave Cipher Nine a sympathetic look.

"I'm so sorry, sir."

Not as sorry as the Sith would be.

* * *

"It's not surprising, really." Doctor Lokin probably shrugged. "The Sith have never properly utilized Imperial Intelligence. This is just another in a string of mistakes. An excellent opportunity for you, of course."

Telkwa nodded, then turned his head in Vector's general direction, hoping to prompt the Joiner to talk.

Vector obliged.

"The collapse of Intelligence, losing Ms. Djannis, the release of your past history - Agent, are you sure it will be possible to overcome the Star Cabal in this condition?"

A moment passed.

"Agent?"

Telkwa started, then his mind caught up. "Ah. I don't know. But I doubt we'll have much choice. No doubt the Cabal already has some plan for how to deal with us more personally."

"Ms. Djannis' imprisonment has us worried, but we find ourselves more concerned with you, agent."

"Hm?"

"Vector has a point," Lokin interjected. "It took you almost half an hour to debrief. I hadn't realized you were so attached to Kaliyo."

Telkwa nodded, then chuckled when the words caught up with him. "Attached. You don't know the half of it."

"Ah," said Vector. "The tethers."

The miralukan nodded again, slowly.

"Then you intend to track down Ms. Djannis?"

Another slow nod. "It's surprisingly hard to keep track of at a distance."

"I can't recommend this, Cipher. We are already shorthanded. Unless Moff Pherrin succumbs soon, our resources are limited to myself, Vector, Ensign Temple, and yourself. Hardly an adequate extraction team."

No, that was wrong. Telkwa shook his head.

"Worse, there is another component of the problem," Lokin noted. "In order to retain plausible deniability, you will have to to report to Lord Razer's flagship before any rescue attempt is made."

"Then, forgive us, but we fail to see how we can find Kaliyo without either Scorpio or Cipher Nine."

"I still have a few connections," said the doctor. "It may not be easy but, well, one doesn't get to be my age without being rather resourceful."

"No."

The other two went silent. Probably looking at Telkwa.

"Temple."

"Who is, at the moment, absent. On the hunt for Cipher Three, I understand."

Again, Telkwa shook his head, watching the third of the tethers connecting him to his friends. He stood and walked out of the room, brushing his hands along the walls to keep from walking into anything.

"Hello, everyone," rang out a cheerful voice from up ahead. "I'm home!"

Ah, Raina. What a kind and innocent girl.

"Who's…" Telkwa trailed off. Kaliyo's tether was so hard to track at this distance. "Raina, I need-"

He cut off as arms wrapped around him. "Oh," he said. Then, "OH."

The tethers to Kaliyo and Vector had just become much clearer.

"Thank you so much," Raina said softly. "If it weren't for you, I just know… thank you."

She started to pull away, but Telkwa stopped her, held her close. "Hold on a second, Raina."

He tried to follow the tether, stretching as far as he could to get a good lock on where it was coming from. It was definitely moving, but that was expected. Off-planet, but to the fleet? A prison colony?

Was he watching Kaliyo travel through hyper-space right now?

"Ahem."

What was that voice?

"Um… agent… this is, well, highly irregular. Please, you're embarrassing me."

Telkwa let his senses come back to himself. He could track down Kaliyo later.

This was too good to be true. He could fix-

Oh.

Telkwa let go of Raina and raised a hand to the man he'd almost noticed on his way to the airlock. He did his best to keep from blushing. "Ah. Cipher Three, I presume?"

The man was tall and willowy, with none of the air of innocence that Raina had. Yet there was a profound sense of rightness about him, something he shared with Raina and Vector. At the same time, Telkwa was pretty sure he recognized the same disillusionment he saw in himself and Doctor Lokin.

"Darren Temple, actually." The man gave a salute. "I prefer to leave behind the Empire's name for me."

"And to use your real name, I see." Telkwa turned, gesturing for the Temples to follow him back to the briefing room. "That must be a relief after so many years on the run."

"My apologies," Darren said, moving to catch up. "My daughter insisted I return with her. I expect you'd prefer I move on as soon as possible, and I can respect that. I've told Raina that Cipher agents don't live very long sticking their necks out for others."

"And I said that you're still alive now, aren't you?"

Telkwa chuckled. "She has a point. And you needn't worry. My entire history and all my aliases have already been compromised."

"What!?"

"And Imperial Intelligence has been dismantled by the Sith."

"What!?" This time, Raina.

"It's fine. We have yet to properly tap our resources. You should be safe here, if you're willing to lend a hand."

"Safe," Darren commented drily, "aboard a ship named Sanguine End?"

Telkwa smiled. "It can also mean peaceful." He refocused his attention. "Raina. We have a few new crises since you left - good work, by the way - that you should be aware of."

The three of them moved into the briefing room, and Telkwa gestured to two of the seats. Darren moved to sit in one, but Raina ushered him away from it, saying it was Kaliyo's seat.

"Where is Kaliyo?"

Telkwa grimaced at Raina's question. "That would be one of the issues. With the dismantling of Imperial Intelligence, Kaliyo's protection was also taken away. She's been arrested and will be interrogated and tried for treason."

Raina gasped.

"A friend of yours, Raina?" Darren asked.

Raina started to nod, then paused, tilting her head. Then she started to shake her head. Eventually, she just shrugged.

Vector nodded. "Yes, we believe that sums up the relationship Ms. Djannis shares with most of us."

"And who are you?"

"Ah," Telkwa said. He gestured to each of the men in turn. "I've gotten ahead of myself. Sorry. These are Vector Hyllus and Doctor Eckard Lokin."

Lokin smiled. "I once followed your career closely, Cipher Three. You had fascinatingly creative methods."

Telkwa waved a hand to stave off the distractions. "Enough of that. You can discuss everything at length later. For now, we have a few things more important. A rescue mission for Kaliyo and my own assignment to Lord… Razer, was it?"

Doctor Lokin nodded, and Telkwa refrained from muttering something about stupid Sith names.

"So I can't and won't be available for the mission. Neither will Scorpio, given the need to… accommodate one of our guests."

Darren rippled with curiosity, which was better than fear, at least. "You're holding someone here?"

"Not here, and it's not relevant, except that a team member is indisposed."

"It is for the best, in our opinion," Vector interjected.

Because it was Vector, Telkwa managed to give him a 'look' that conveyed his frustration at being interrupted. Vector apologized, also non-verbally.

"As I was saying," Telkwa continued with an air of exasperation, "we have a rescue mission to run, and I'm going to be busy. Luckily, an experienced Cipher agent has just arrived on our landing ramp. That is, if Darren Temple is willing to help a group of his daughter's friends?"

Darren went silent, considering. He looked around at the group, mostly at his daughter, then said, "Raina told me what you did for her. I owe you a great deal, and this… I'll consider it. I don't like to get into anything without knowing all the details."

Telkwa grinned. "Mr. Temple, if I were to give you all the details, we'd be here until the Sith got impatient at my tardiness. Let's limit ourselves to what we need for now, and Raina can fill you in on anything you're curious about."

Raina started. "Anything, sir?"

"Anything," Telkwa said with slow consideration, "that can possibly affect him. That seems fair, for now."

"Is there a reason you won't look at us when you talk?" Darren asked suspiciously.

"Yes," Telkwa said, then ignored the rest of that train of thought. "There's one last thing I need to check before I can go. Raina, can you tell me where Kaliyo is?"

Raina was so surprised it was funny. "Sir, I only just asked where she'd gone. You told me she was taken away."

"Yes, but you have senses that many people don't. Senses that can't be limited by things like distance and barriers. So, tell me: can you tell me where Kaliyo is?"

"I…" Raina trailed off, closing her eyes. Her aura flailed about in an uncoordinated way, trying to get a hold of the tether that connected her to Kaliyo.

"Don't think about her," Telkwa advised. "Think about your connection to her. Your conversations, your feelings, your shared experiences. Once you've managed that, you may be able to follow it to her."

Still, Raina grasped in the proverbial dark, trying in vain to even find a direction to face. Her aura stretched in this direction and that, waving wildly. Eventually, it hit the tether leading to Telkwa, and the girl opened her eyes. "Oh!"

The miralukan sighed. "No," he said, "not that one."

"What, exactly, is going on here?"

"Later," Telkwa told him.

Gesturing towards Vector and Raina, Telkwa said, "hold hands, please. Or embrace, if you're comfortable with that."

Both stood and moved around the table to each other. They took each other's hands. The tethers connecting them to Kaliyo and Telkwa flared and strengthened.

"Do you feel anything?"

They shook their heads.

Telkwa considered, then strode over, putting a hand on each of their shoulders.

The tether to Kaliyo blazed.

"How about now?"

Raina wavered confusion, as did Vector.

Telkwa sighed. "Can you at least try reaching out?"

Raina lifted her hand towards Telkwa.

"With the Force, Raina."

"Oh. Right."

Again, the wavering and flailing, but this time it caught on Kaliyo's tether. Raina didn't say anything, though, even as she grasped the tether tight.

Vector, however, gasped. "It is just like the nest!"

That didn't make… "Raina, stop reaching. I need to see something."

Raina's aura settled down.

"It's gone," Vector murmured. "We do not understand."

"Alright," Telkwa said. "Again."

This time, Raina was a bit faster about feeling out the tether. She grasped it, Vector confirmed he could feel it, and Telkwa let go of them.

"Still?"

Vector nodded.

With a cry of victory, Telkwa punched the air.

"I have no idea what just happened," Raina's father muttered.

"Nor, for that matter, do I," agreed Doctor Lokin.

"It's perfect," Telkwa said. "We have two experienced Intelligence operatives, a Force-sensitive, a Joiner, and a way to locate Kaliyo."

He frowned at his crew members. "You can let go of each other's hands, now."

Raina pulled her hand away like she'd been burned.

* * *

Cipher Nine had had better missions.

The device moved in slowly, carefully, and grazed his chest ever so lightly.

Every muscle in Cipher Nine's torso spasmed so hard it felt like they would tear themselves apart. He'd have screamed, but his jaw was locked tight in a rictus of pain, so the air just filtered weakly through his teeth.

Then the device was pulled away and he slumped in the chair, breathing heavily.

When Watcher Two - no, when Keeper had contacted him, he'd thought she had a plan.

Specifically, a good plan.

Certainly a better plan than, "get yourself captured."

Another, thankfully brief, bout of searing, freezing, pure pain cut off Cipher Nine's thoughts.

Emperor bless the Empire for developing the "Interrogation Tool". Nothing quite like clean, uncomplicated activation of the pain receptors.

His interrogator, a human with an aura surprisingly clean for the work he was doing, knelt down in front of him and asked, "so, how are you feeling?"

Cipher Nine gasped at him, tapering off into a pained grunt.

Hours of this had taken a toll. The interrogator had been more imaginative to start, but he'd quickly lost his stomach for the work, around the time Cipher Nine had screamed himself hoarse. Now, the man rarely moved much longer than the prompting of his compatriots with guns.

Or Hunter's urgings.

Hunter wasn't there, of course. He just checked in once in a while to get a progress update on the prisoner.

About an hour ago, after the second lapse into unconsciousness, Cipher Nine had "broken", spilling all the information he had on renewed Imperial strategies designed to foil the Republic's and, more importantly, the Star Cabal's plans.

Hunter, ever the brutal pragmatist, had nodded and said to continue, just in case.

In fairness, Cipher Nine _had_ been lying.

Good old Watcher - "aaaarrgh!"

Pretty sure a tooth chipped when his mouth slammed closed that time. He tried spitting it out when the spasming stopped, but it ended up dribbling onto his chest.

One of the guards grunted in disgust. Probably at the blood dripping onto the black armour and cloth.

When Cipher Nine had delivered himself to the Star Cabal, Hunter had come so close to recruiting him. Cipher Nine had come so close to joining.

It was a brilliant plan. Infiltrate the nations over the course of centuries, tempt the wealthy, powerful, and influential to gain more wealth, power, and influence. So easy, so simple. Point them at the enemy that was the Sith and Jedi, the "others" of the galaxy, and then use the Cabal's power to pick up the pieces. If all went according to plan, there would only be two: the Republic and the Empire, to be combined into one nation under the Star Cabal.

So perfect. Almost flawless. Except for one glaring mistake: there would still be wars at a scale that would shatter worlds and make entire species tremble in fear.

Oh, Hunter. So clever and so short-sighted.

The interrogator punched him, hard, in the face.

One of the muscles in Cipher Nine's cheek twitched. Almost a smile. Just too exhausting to hold.

Soon, they'd have no choice but to take him seriously. When the panic set in and the Star Cabal moved to counter an imaginary fleet, Keeper would be there, watching. She'd find out exactly where the conspiracy called home.

The exhausted man hoped guests got better treatment there than they did here.

Then the device practically stabbed him in the chest, and held there for a lot longer than last time.

Cipher Nine lost consciousness.

The next… minutes? Hours? Days? ...went by slowly and at the speed of thought, both. There was a sense of more pain, and of the world fading in and out.

Cipher Nine's mind wandered.

On the world below his airship prison, a radiant, beautiful figure knelt over the form of a weak, flickering soldier. The Force flowed through the Jedi, and power and life returned to that soldier.

Somewhere out in the void of space, on a moon never meant for life, there was Kaliyo. She was as faint as any Force-blind, but she kept the fire of a survivor inside. They wouldn't hold her long.

On a planet steeped in red, there was a strangely familiar figure, tinted green but gleaming red, standing before…

Before…

Pain seared through Cipher Nine's body, and he retreated to his body and embraced the agony in an attempt to wash the image from his mind.

Again, he faded out of consciousness.

When he regained it, he was given a reprieve, just long enough to almost get his thoughts together. The interrogator was saying something. What was it?

"I said, Lord Scourge sent for reinforcements?"

Cipher Nine shook his head. "N-no," he wheezed. "Razer."

The interrogator snorted. "We're not getting anything new," he said to one of the guards. He jerked a thumb over his shoulder. "Tell the boss."

The interrogator, the man who'd been torturing him for so long it felt like days, knelt down and put a hand on his shoulder. "Relax. Vacation's over. You get to check out."

Cipher Nine nodded, slowly, then whispered words that didn't come out quite right.

"Hm? What was that?" the mercenary asked.

"I said," the miralukan managed to breath, "keyword… Iconoclasm."

Pain washed away. Muscles that could barely move moments ago felt good as new. Better than new.

The interrogator's murmur of confusion turned into an exclamation of surprise that cut off abruptly when the newly-freed Cipher Nine took him in the throat with a knife-hand strike.

The remaining guard took a second too long to react. Her gun was knocked from her hands, then her neck was snapped, neat and quick. Quicker than the interrogator, who slowly suffocated on a broken windpipe while his victim picked up a gun and left the room.

Cipher Nine waited just long enough for the other guard to finish his report to Hunter.

"-ith Lord, from the Auril- Agh!"

Almost long enough. It felt good to shoot the man.

"Keyword: iconoclasm," the spy whispered.

He slumped against the wall, hard.

Everything hurt, just like it had all day.

From the console the guard's body was lying on, there came Hunter's voice. "That was rude, agent. I was in the middle of a conversation."

"It won't matter," he said to the console where he knew Hunter was watching him, arms crossed and smug. "I held out… hngh… long enough. You can't stop them now."

"Oh, agent," Hunter chuckled. "You disappoint me. If you keep underestimating us, you won't live much longer, and then who will I play with?"

Cipher Nine raised the stolen rifle in a shaky hand and propped it up with his other hand and the wall. "Keyword," he spat, and fired three times into the terminal.

I swear by the Emperor, he thought, this better be worth it, Keeper.

The party was still going on in the rest of the airship. Cipher Nine turned and stumbled, slowly, towards the engine room three floors inside the ship.

Time for a little petty sabotage.

Then, if he guessed Keeper's plan correctly, it would be time for Cipher Nine to die.

 **Author's** **Note**

 **I like to imagine Telkwa has a fan or two out there. This message is for them.**

 **Following this, there is one more chapter of From Patriot to Iconoclast. However, if I don't botch things up terribly, there will be a companion piece next month, featuring the mission to rescue Kaliyo. Thought I'd give you a heads-up.**


	13. Chapter 13

All in all, being dead wasn't as exciting as Cipher Nine had expected.

Cipher Nine…

Maybe he needed a new callsign.

He strode up to the man who'd once changed the course of his entire life. Without so much as a salute, he asked, "you wanted to see me, Minister?"

The Minister of Intelligence, once Keeper, looked Telkwa straight in the nonexistent eyes, just as he'd done years ago when they'd first met. "Yes," he said, gesturing, "come in."

Telkwa walked into the room, a make-shift office the Minister was clearly using to command the last of his power base.

The ship was sparsely populated. Most of the guards were droids, most of the people highly-trained spies and assassins, and those were few and far between. The Tenebrous was Imperial Intelligence's last grasp at relevance in an unjust galaxy.

The Minister looked tired, aged and exhausted where he'd once seemed merely experienced and worn. Still, he sounded the same as he always had when he said, "last time we talked, I sent you to hunt 'invisible agents' manipulating the war. How did that mission turn out?"

If Telkwa could properly stare, he might have. Was this sarcasm? Feigned nonchalance? True ignorance? Had the man who'd sent him to near-death on so many occasions simply forgotten about him? This was the same man who'd watched him take down Darth Jaedus, who'd approved the brainwashing that made Telkwa a slave of the Republic!

Telkwa grit his teeth. "We tracked them across three planets as they destroyed my cover identities, three theaters of war, the office of Imperial Intelligence, and my crew. I think it's safe to say things got out of hand, _sir._ "

The Minister at least had the dignity to feel regret, even if it was cut with indignation. Still, the man's voice was steady when he explained, "I did what I could. This ship and its crew represent the last of favours owed to me."

And didn't that just declare the state of the Empire these days?

"While Intelligence may be gone, your work on Corellia let us trace the conspirators' communications to the space station in the Null Zone. We believe that station to be their base of operations. I want you to take your team there immediately. Any delay, and we risk the enemy escaping. Eliminate any members of the inner circle present and obtain their records – the names of their followers, their resources, and every black project they've co-opted."

If Telkwa had had eyes, they would have narrowed. "What do you want with all that information?"

The Minister didn't miss a beat. "With the Star Cabal's secrets, we can scour the galaxy for what's left of their membership. Otherwise, they'll soon regroup. Of course, the conspirators' secrets have other uses. Once this crisis passes, the Sith will want them in safe hands."

Sith hands weren't safe hands, in Telkwa's opinion. Maybe he could find a way to lose everything but the followers' names.

Telkwa inspected the Minister closely, wondering, weighing the risk and reward of subjecting him to IX treatment.

Too risky. A man like the minster had a dozen contingency plans for every possible scenario. Kidnapping would never be successful, let alone brainwashing.

In the end, Telkwa only nodded. The Minister mirrored the movement. Then his aura, his body language, his entire demeanour… shifted.

"Cipher." He said it in that same authoritative way he always spoke, but still, something seemed off. "I regret what has happened to you over the years. The circumstances of your recruitment, Eradication Day, your experiences with the Republic SIS, they were more than could have been expected of an Intelligence operative. The decisions I made were based on limited information and my best efforts to keep you alive and, if possible, safe. Because of that… I would like to formally apologize for what was allowed to happen to you."

"No."

The Minister actually flinched. "Excuse me?"

Telkwa's hand cut the air. "NOT Cipher Nine. You know my name. And no formalities. If you're sorry for what happened, I'm going to hear it from you, not the Minister of Intelligence." He leaned back and crossed his arms.

The Minister swallowed and nodded. His aura held steady, his emotions as tightly controlled as his face. Finally, he let his hands come forward from their clasped position behind his back, and his stance loosened slightly. "Very well," he said. "Telkwa-"

The holocom in the center of the room cut him off with a man's voice and probably a hologram. "Ship's overhaul is finished, sir. He'll get to the station out of sight."

The Minister nodded and the call quietly ended. The man turned to face Telkwa, but the spy cut him off.

Already on his way out the door, Telkwa Thema raised his hand in farewell without even turning back.

He didn't need to turn his head and he didn't need to hear the Minister's apology. He could see the things others couldn't.

From the man who'd so often sent him to die, who'd risked so much to save him, he'd seen enough. Heard just enough.

"Apology accepted, Renet Laus," he called back. "I'll see you when all's said and done."

And with that Cipher Nine, Legate, Telkwa Thema, went to join his crew, all of whom – including Kaliyo – waited for him on his newly overhauled stealth corvette.

* * *

"There it is. Home base for bad people who want to do bad things… Ever think of joining them?"

"Do not joke, Ms. Djannis."

"I told you. Kaliyo. Not Ms. Djannis. Either get it right or keep a better eye on your tea."

"That's enough, you two," Telkwa muttered, edging towards the front of the cockpit. "I need a moment to concentrate. I bet I can pull off the same trick I did with Scorpio's SD chamber."

"By all means," offered Doctor Lokin with a subtle flourish.

"That would've been a pretty neat trick on the rescue mission _you weren't on._ "

Telkwa ignored Kaliyo's snipe. He felt bad enough about that without Kaliyo reminding him. At least the rescue had been successful. He'd have to get the full story at some point. For now, he was just grateful she was alright, no matter how annoyed she was with him.

Whether getting closer helped or it just took Telkwa some time to get his mind focused, it was minutes and hundreds of kilometers after Kaliyo's initial sighting that Telkwa was able to report what he saw inside the Star Cabal's hidden station.

"These would be the senses you mentioned?"

"Father, sh. He's easily distracted."

The Star Chamber was not as large as Telkwa had expected, merely a cylinder a hundred meters in height and most of a kilometer in diameter, with spires from the center of top and bottom. By the standards of any space station, there was nothing special about it from the outside.

On the inside, though…

"That's interesting," Telkwa Thema whispered.

"What's-"

"Sh!"

Telkwa smiled, imagining Kaliyo standing behind him, glaring at Raina, who would be standing with her father.

"There's almost nothing alive on the station," Telkwa reported. "If I had to guess, the base is either heavily booby-trapped or filled with droid guards, or both. Most of the living beings are making their way from hangars towards the center, or are already there. And there's something else, something I've never seen before. It's a chamber, a level above the meeting room and near the edge of the station. Nowhere near an entryway – I think they want to keep it safe."

"Boss, get to the POINT!"

"I don't know how to describe it," Telkwa snapped. He gestured in the direction of the thing he was talking about, as if the others would miraculously develop Force-sight. "It's a cube, but it's important. I can just tell. It's like the Sanguine End or, I don't know, Kaas city. Except Sanguine End is so much less… well, whatever it is, and Kaas city has it hidden behind all the Sith energy."

"We believe we understand."

"Er… with all due respect, sir, I don't. I don't understand at all."

Telkwa tried to process Raina's words at the same time as he analyzed the device. One was a lot easier than the other. "It's just… important. The way it looks… it's like the tethers that connect us, except they connect to the cube, then disappear. I think they're connected somewhere else in time."

"Are you sure of your observations, Cipher?"

"Not even a little bit. But that's what it feels like."

"Interesting." The tone in Lokin's voice sounded unpleasantly intrigued. "Perhaps there is a great deal more to be studied in your physiology."

"Perhaps this is a matter for another time, Doctor."

"Oh, yes, of course, Vector. My apologies."

Why was the doctor apologizing to Vector when Telkwa was the one being distracted by offers of dissection?

The miralukan kept relating what he could about the Star Chamber: what its infrastructure looked like, how many droids might defend it, how many ships were in the hangars, and other details, until a hand rested on his shoulder.

"Agent," came Vector's voice. "We are landing."

Telkwa pulled his focus back to his immediate surroundings.

The room spun and he reached up to try to steady his own head. Vector helped, bringing another hand to Telkwa's shoulders and holding him gently against the chair.

Eventually, the world steadied. Telkwa stood and looked around at his crew.

Vector Hyllus, an honourable man with the abilities of two races. His loyalty and friendship were more than Telkwa deserved.

Kaliyo Djannis, a wildfire woman who, against all odds, had yet to burn her crewmates. He supposed that, with her rescue, they'd made the mistake so many of the rattataki's victims had over the years: they trusted her.

Raina Temple, a kind woman, idealistic and diligent. The Empire had made a grave mistake driving her away.

Doctor Eckard Lokin, an old monster who'd survived longer than anybody Telkwa had ever heard of in the service. Though, tellingly, Telkwa hadn't heard of him until they'd worked together. It appeared they had a mutual respect. That had to count for something.

And Darren Temple. Formerly Cipher Three. Raina's father, who'd once given her up and gone on the run for two decades to save her life.

Yes, Telkwa Thema could see going into a fight for the fate of the galaxy with these people.

"In pairs," Telkwa said, striding past the group. "Vector, with me. We're getting a line of sight on the meeting room. Preferably, one with good acoustics. Kaliyo? Some AOE?"

A grenade flew across the room. Telkwa caught it without turning or breaking stride.

They strode off the ship, already invisible to anything Force-blind. The two moved through the station quietly while the others paired off, Kaliyo and Lokin heading to sabotage the docked ships, the Temples heading towards the room with the Cube.

On the way, Telkwa did them the favour of hacking a pair of large droids and sabotaging the alarm system.

A very special sort of sabotage.

"Scorpio," Telkwa whispered, "are you in?"

"These systems are based off of my own designs," returned the synthetic voice in his ear. "It will be satisfying to dismantle this crude copy."

That was a yes, then.

"Just keep everything quiet until we get loud, Scorpio."

"As you wish."

That was that. From there, it was a quick move to slip out of the halls and into an upper terrace of the main room.

Just in time.

Twi'leks, humans, an ithorian, presumably a holocall in the center of a great round table, and, right there in the path of Telkwa's rifle, was Hunter. His energy shield was up, even in the middle of his so-called allies, but there was always the chance the rifle had enough power to punch through.

Vector knelt down beside Telkwa.

It was best to wait. The moment the shooting started, their shield generators would cut out from ion interference. Worse, they'd never find out who most of these people were.

The middle of the table spoke, proving it was a holocommunicator. "You mean to say you lost Corellia?"

"Adjustments are being made," a man said in a desperately placating tone. "Stryver is already working the Mandalorians."

Ah, Emperor. Mandalorians on Corellia. That was all they needed.

"See?" Hunter, now, but his voice quavered. Perhaps his head would roll if Corellia didn't pan out? That was a nice reassurance if this all went south.

Keeper's voice sounded over his headpiece. "No holotraps this time. No distortions. Applying facial recognition. Information on targets incoming."

She was going to make the mistake of putting the data on the eyepieces of his headgear, he just knew it. For a super-genius, Keeper could be unbelievably tactless.

"You may say it's fine," a different voice in the holo said, "but I won't be comfortable until our targets are laid out for autopsy."

"Yem Leksende," Keeper reported. "Czerka Corporation Special Executive."

Oh. Or she'd tell him as he heard their voices. That was actually close to perfect.

"Tol Braga, at least, is dead," said a man at the table. "Now we seek balance as the world quakes."

"Sir Trilag of the Mecrosa Order of assassins."

"We knew we would be vulnerable-"

"Agent," Vector hissed quietly.

Telkwa shook his head, trying to hear whatever the current speaker was saying. He appeared to be the main voice for the group. It could be important.

"Agent," Vector interrupted again, "I think-"

Hunter stood up. "Everyone stop," he said. "There's someone here."

What?!

Telkwa fired, but Hunter dove out of the way. The miralukan kept firing, clipping Hunter once before standing and pressing the button on Kaliyo's grenade and tossing it into the center of the room.

Scumbags and killers were already scattering, but a few were caught in the explosion.

Telkwa didn't care. The ones who ran would meet a very angry rattataki and equally vicious rakghoul. The others, he signaled for Vector to deal with. He, himself, rappelled down from the terrace and raced after Hunter.

"You can't hide from my sight, Hunter!" he roared, slipping a dagger into a nautolan's stomach on the way by. "You know that!"

A droid got in Telkwa's way. Then it was all over the floor. Scorpio said something about Kaliyo and the hangars, but it wasn't important. Vector called out something…

Telkwa slowed, just for a second.

Hunter gained two strides of distance.

Telkwa picked up his speed again.

Vector was okay. Vector was okay.

Emperor take it!

Telkwa stopped, turned, and put two bolts into one of the men Vector was fighting.

Together, they killed three more. It took time, but that was alright. It was. Hunter had nowhere to go. The hangars were shut down, Scorpio had the facility, Telkwa could see where Hunter was if he concentrated hard enough… and it still made his skin crawl to let the man go free a second longer.

At the end, though, Telkwa checked Vector's injuries and made sure everything was okay.

Vector was alright. A few minor burns and a severely bruised pair of ribs, but nothing that wouldn't heal soon enough.

"Sir, Scorpio has location of Hunter," Raina's voice called over the link. "We're moving to intercept."

"Vector," Telkwa whispered, "keep an eye out." Then he followed Raina's tether to her.

She was dashing down a hallway not far away, alongside her father.

Just around the corner, waiting, stood Hunter.

"Hey, boss," Kaliyo's voice called.

"NOT NOW," Telkwa roared. "Raina, look out! It's a trap!"

He watched as Hunter slid around the corner and took a shot. Raina went down like a brick.

Not dead. She wasn't dead.

Darren opened fire, but too slow. Hunter shot him, too, then knelt down to pick up Raina.

"Scorpio," Telkwa snapped, "put me on the station's comms!"

"Done."

"Hunter!"

Hunter froze.

"I need audio, Sco-"

"Agent," came Hunter's voice. "It's good to hear from you. I was beginning to think you didn't like me."

Telkwa ignored the usual inane chatter. "Is the old man still alive?"

Hunter jerked Raina roughly to the side, knelt down, and checked for a pulse. "Oh, yes," he said. "He should be fine, with immediate medical attention."

"Then you're in luck."

"Oh?" Hunter was actually amused, the snake. "Seems to me you've broken into my home and done some nasty things to a few of my… well, let's not call them friends. Some lies are just too big. So, tell me, how is this lucky?"

"You can still get out of this with a quick death."

"I have one of your favourites right here in my arms, Cipher. She's a pretty one, too. You sure you want to risk that?"

"You underestimate how far Raina is willing to go for this mission, Hunter. You'll have to kill her. Then you'll have nobody. I recommend you avoid that. You'll just piss me off."

"Cipher, Cipher," Hunter crooned, "what makes you think I don't have a way out of this, just like everything else?"

"Because I can see the whole station. No matter where you go, the SCORPIO Sanctions will follow. There's a rakghoul on the station. Probably several, by now. If you escape today, miraculously, that might be the end of it. But you know what happens if you kill Raina or Darren?"

"Something cliché, I imagine," Hunter mused. "You hunt me to the ends of the galaxy?"

"No. Nothing quite so trite. I have a dossier of the leaders of the Empire and the Republic, their staunchest allies and bravest defenders. So, I wonder how you would feel about having your aliases and deeds handed to… oh, say, Caein Thema?"

That got the right reaction. Fear, cold and perfect. Hunter tried to play it off. "Ha. That animal? I'd lose him in days."

"No," Telkwa replied. "You wouldn't. Not with my help. Now, let the Temples go, or your very best option becomes death by the Butcher Blademaster. Let them go, and we can end this. Just the two of us. Kill me, and you know my crew can't track you down."

Telkwa gave Hunter just a second to think.

"You know it's your only hope."

Hunter nodded. Then he threw Raina, roughly, into the wall. "Follow me," he said, and pressed a button on his wrist.

Telkwa started handing out orders. Vector was sent to look after the Temples. Kaliyo got the job of bringing as many of the Cabal in alive as possible, for IX treatment. Lokin got to finish with the rest of them, with Scorpio's help.

Then Telkwa took off after Hunter.

Maybe he should have explained about Caein to Vector. Maybe he should have ordered every member of the Cabal killed on sight. Maybe he should have gone to help the Temples personally.

Maybe, once Hunter was dead, he'd finally start actually making decisions for the people around him.

Or maybe he'd just keep fighting for his own personal vendettas.

Hunter fled to the room with the Cube. Telkwa was there two minutes after him.

Hunter stood with his back to that forsaken cube, facing Telkwa as he walked in.

A part of Telkwa had wanted to sneak up on Hunter and slit his throat before the man ever knew what had happened.

Some other, stupid, part decided to let Hunter talk.

"No way out anymore," said Hunter. "I dreamed about this. You and me tearing each other apart… Who would have figured an Imperial Cipher could threaten us? Why did you have to be Imperial? You would've fit right in! We could've been partners!"

Telkwa raised his rifle. "No, we couldn't have." Then he fired.

He thought he predicted where Hunter was going to dodge to. It was the sort of thing that Jedi did all the time. The Voss did it regularly, on planetary and millennial scales.

Apparently Telkwa couldn't manage three-quarters of a second, because he missed. Hunter dove a little lower than expected and a snap shot forced Telkwa to stumble backwards.

Off-balance, Telkwa kept firing, and kept missing.

Hunter shifted in, low to the ground, and swept Telkwa's feet out from under him. His rifle skittered across the ground. In a second, Hunter was atop him, blaster firing.

A move meant to break Hunter's arm did nothing but knock the pistol out of his hand.

Whatever was going on, it seemed Hunter was too unpredictable to fight properly.

Very well. A new plan, then.

Telkwa threw Hunter off of himself and dove after him.

What followed was not what anybody in the Imperial Academy would deem a proper fight. Almost every punch Telkwa threw landed, at best, a glancing blow. Neither blocking nor dodging did much good, except to sometimes mitigate a hit that should have broken something.

It didn't take long for Hunter to get a grip that gave Telkwa the choice between a broken arm and staying very, very still.

"I've gotta say, Cipher, I was expecting better. I mean, you've got a reputation for not being seen, but I never suspected the man who took out Darth Jadus would be so… pathetic."

"You need a doctor," Telkwa grunted, trying to twist free and getting a lance of pain all the way up to his shoulder for the trouble.

Hunter laughed. "Me? You wouldn't even be standing if I weren't holding you up."

"Your aura," Telkwa managed to get a frail grip on Hunter's wrist. "Emperor knows what's wrong with it."

"My aura? Is that what you call it? Heh. Doesn't matter. Any last words, Cipher?"

Telkwa nodded, barely a centimeter up and down. Quietly, barely audibly, he said, "keyword: iconoclasm."

"Wha-"

Telkwa's arm snapped like a twig, but it didn't matter. He had a grip on Hunter. First on one arm, then the other. Bone poked through flesh, but he managed to push the agent to the ground. There, he drove his knee into Hunter's ribs with all the force of muscles that didn't know when to stop.

The sound of snapping ribs was like a falling pile of rocks, and Telkwa watched five snap clean free in the first hit, then another six when he took the other side.

There was something off about the rib cage. Probably had something to do with Hunter's bizarre anatomy.

It didn't matter. What mattered was that Hunter was on the ground, probably in shock, and blood was filling his lungs. The fight was over.

Looking at his arm hanging at his side, Telkwa decided it would be best not to recant his keyword until he got his hands on some serious kolto. For now, he fished out a quick medpac and started wrapping his arm up properly.

"It's your responsibility now – everything we built, everything we hid from you… you're the only one like us left."

It took Hunter almost thirty seconds to get the words out, gasping for air. His breath bubbled. Telkwa got out a second set of bandages and a kolto syringe to see if he could set his arm straight. Never could be too careful with that sort of thing.

"You mean the Cube," Telkwa said.

"The Black Codex. I know you'll… use it properly." Emperor's breath, what training had this man gone through? At this point, it had to be easier to just die. "But I have… something to show you."

Hunter tried to move, failed with a gasp of pain that made Telkwa grimace, and just turned his head to the side. "My arm… the cloaking generator. Take it off?"

Telkwa hesitated. Hunter almost laughed. It came out as a wheeze. "It's not a bomb, Cipher."

Grudgingly, Telkwa knelt and removed the device. It was tricky one-handed. Trickier not to jostle Hunter too much while doing it.

As soon as it came off, the energy field around Hunter dissipated.

"Thank you," said a woman's voice. Not Hunter's, but coming from him – her – whatever Hunter was. "I haven't shown anyone my real face… in a long time."

Telkwa pulled out a syringe and put it against Hunter's throat. She tried to squirm away, but he administered the painkillers all the same.

He figured she'd earned them. There were a lot of puzzle pieces that had just come together.

Still… "Hunter," Telkwa said softly, "I can't see your face. Not the way you want me to. I'm… sorry."

He meant it. He hadn't expected to, but he meant it.

Hunter was a pawn of the Star Cabal. The identity of Hunter, just another tool she used, another part of her that was a tool for the Cabal.

Wanting to die being who she really was…

Well, Cipher Nine understood that well enough.

"They found you when you were young," he murmured, kneeling over her. "Took away your name, your family… Hunter was the only way to escape. The voice… you lived in a hologram, didn't you?"

A bloody wheeze. "Must've… looked pretty ridiculous to you… huh?"

Telkwa didn't say anything.

"You kept your face as Cipher Nine… as Legate. I was so jealous..."

"No." Telkwa reached up to his throat. In a second, he'd undone the clasps on his headgear. Then he pulled it off. "I didn't. So I suppose we're more alike than you thought."

"Hunter… and Cipher Nine… they were the tough ones. They play the game right. I'll miss… wearing his face."

"It's easy," Telkwa whispered, "to hide behind the callsign. Maybe if you'd had someone who could see you without the mask..."

"You… can." She turned her head to the side and coughed up a gout of blood. A weak hand caught hold of Telkwa's leg. "What do… you see?"

That was an incredible question. From the shape and colour of Hunter's aura and his personal knowledge of her, he could tell she was almost as much victim as monster, that she'd caused agony to numberless people and sometimes even honestly enjoyed it. He could see the weight of her crimes on her and how that guilt had somehow never come close to stopping her from doing it all over again. He knew about her helplessness and her resourcefulness, her lies and plans and manipulations. He saw the mask and self-fear and self-hatred that had eaten at her for her entire life, making the greatest lie the one she lived every day.

Last, but not least in Telkwa's mind, he saw how her aura cut off, reaching no further than her own body, connecting her to not a single living soul in the galaxy.

He saw her loneliness.

Telkwa reached out and wiped the blood from Hunter's face. "I see a woman who the galaxy will be better off without, and I hope we're not as alike as we look."

Pain shocked through Hunter, far more than physical. "What… will you do?"

Was it worth telling Hunter? Wasting the breath on a dying woman?

Then again, what harm could it do? She was already dead. She knew it. Telkwa knew it. The Force knew it. Only her body had yet to catch up.

"I'm going to take everything you ever had and use it to wipe out the nations that are willing to destroy entire planets just to win a battle," he said. "Your mistake was thinking the Jedi and Sith were the problem. I'll fix that."

Hunter actually smiled. It was hard to see. Facial expressions usually were. Still, the amusement glowed in the last of the Force within her.

"So," she gurgled, "from patriot to… iconoclast?"

Telkwa almost managed a smile. "Yes. I suppose so."

Hunter managed one weak, gurgling chuckle. Then she died.

Telkwa closed her eyes, then stood up.

The Cube, the Black Codex, floated in the center of the room, an ominous piece of destiny.

The Force drained entirely from Hunter's corpse, leaving nothing but the same energy that flowed through the dead metal around them. Except the only thing Hunter's body touched was Telkwa. The only connection she'd ever made.

The spy, the Imperial agent, stepped forward and took hold of the Black Codex.

 **Author's note**

That's it. For Cipher Nine, the core story is over. Except for what'll probably be three chapters of The Rescue Mission, you won't be seeing him or his crew for a while. That's alright, in my mind. He'll be just as interesting as the mysterious "Iconoclast". For the one or two of you who are interested, though, he will certainly be interfering with the rest of the Legacy in later stories. After all, Telkwa's planning on changing the galaxy, and there are at least seven other people who've made themselves surprisingly influential.

 **Now it's on to the Bounty Hunter, the Trooper, and the Consular. Wish me luck!**


End file.
